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sebastianstangirl01 · 1 year

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One Man’s Loss is Another Man’s Gain

Title: One Man’s Loss is Another Man’s Gain

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Wife Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Bradley being put in his place, Protective Jake

Summary: When the best pilots in the navy get called back to Top Gun for a special detachment and it’s learned that Pete Maverick Mitchell is the instructor Bradley Bradshaw looks forward to seeing his old crush again so he can finally confess his feelings, Y/N Mitchell. Too bad Jake Seresin already swept her off her feet and made her Mrs. Seresin.

Requested: Yes!

When you first heard about this special suicide mission it’s safe to say you were terrified for your husband and father. You and Jake had been married for around 3 years now and you’re currently 7 months pregnant with your first child. The idea of being left a widow killing you inside, but not as much as the chance of your son growing up without his father.

You and your father Pete Mitchell have a strong relationship, he was the only constant in your life for a long time after your mother abandoned you on his doorstep. Growing up you and your dad spent a lot of time with Carole and Bradley, Goose passed away 3 years before you were born and Carole and Pete sometimes joked that Goose sent you to them because he knew they needed you.

Carole was the only mother figure you ever had in your life and when she passed away when you were 16 it rocked your whole world, as far as you were concerned she helped raise you and you loved her like a daughter loves her mother.

Bradley. He was a different story, though you’re 6 years younger than him you two grew up as best friends. He was your first crush when you turned 13 and actually noticed how cute he was, but he was in college then and was always going out to parties with college girls, so you never saw him much. When you were 15 you finally realized how dumb your crush was, he was 21 and you were still basically a child playing softball and hanging out with your friends at the movies and the beach. For your own sanity you let the crush go and just focused on being happy to see him when he came home on breaks.

One day everything changed though. Bradley had written you off completely out of the blue, you tried getting in touch with him but your calls wouldn’t go through, you even tried the old fashioned way and sent him a few letters but never got a response. You tried asking your dad what happened but he refused to give you any details. As much as it hurt, you refused to let yourself feel bad and reach out over and over again when you got nothing in return. So you just stopped trying.

You went to college at UCLA where you played softball all four years and got your teaching degree in elementary education, you moved back home to North Beach where you got a job as a 1st grade teacher at Miramar Elementary School on base, thanks to a few strings pulled by your Uncle Ice to insure you’d be close to home.

You met Jake at the hard deck when you were 23 and he was 26, you had gone out to spend some time with Penny and your dad had just gotten back from a deployment so you all were celebrating. Jake had just graduated from Top Gun at the top of his class and came out with a few of his fellow graduates to celebrate. When you two locked eyes the attraction was instant.

Jake spent almost a month trying to get you to go out with him, you had heard of Jake Hangman Seresin’s reputation from your dad who heard it from Uncle Ice. So you wanted to play hard to get and make sure he actually wanted to be with you and not just get into your pants. He proved himself though when he took you out for a picnic on the beach followed up by a walk on the board walk with some ice cream.

You two dated for around 3 years before getting married, you had a small intimate ceremony with just your family and a few close friends. You two lived in a old fashioned farm house and turned it into your dream house, about a year into your marriage you adopted a golden retriever puppy from the pound named Lady and a tabby cat named Wendy and you two were fine with just being animal parents for a little while.

You spent these last 3 years of marriage building your family home. You and Jake decided to live permanently in San Diego regardless of his deployments. Jake worked as hard as he could for the Navy making a name for himself, while you worked just as hard at your teaching job welcoming kids into your class year after year who left feeling like your very own children. Maverick has his hangar around 20 minutes away from your house and you all have Sunday dinners every week without fail.

When you found out you were pregnant you were surprised but nonetheless thrilled, sure you two weren’t actively trying for a baby but you weren’t really doing anything to avoid pregnancy either. You immediately went to the doctor and got checked out learning that you were 8 weeks pregnant and left with a wide smile and some ultrasound pictures. When Maverick found out he was going to be a grandpa he just about passed out from excitement. But nothing beats Jake’s reaction when he found out he was going to be a father.

You had been anxiously waiting for Jake to get back from training, you found out about the pregnancy around a week ago and you were dying to tell your husband but wanted it to be memorable.

You brainstormed and then remembered the two things he loved almost as much as you. Your animals. You’ve seen other people use their animals as a pregnancy announcement and knew that this was the way to go.

You ordered Lady a thin sweater that read “Big Sister” and Wendy a collar that had baby booties on it since you knew better than to try to put your cat into a sweater, learning from past mistakes. You also found three of the cutest onesies at target, one read “my best friend’s have paws” the second one read “my daddy is a pilot” and the last one read “I love mommy and daddy”. You of course had to get all three, and you wanted to make a box to put them in so you got your pregnancy test and ultrasound picture and put it in the box on top of the folded onesies.

Jake is suppose to be home at 7 and it’s currently 6:50, you felt butterflies in your stomach as you sat on the couch with Wendy resting on the back of the couch near your shoulder and Lady laying across your lap asleep, with the box laying on the coffee table. You were excited but nervous about Jake’s reaction, you knew regardless he would be excited but you may have to scoop his unconscious form off the floor before the excitement hits him.

Before you could think much longer the door opened and both animals lifted their heads to look towards the door as Jake stepped inside. You quickly grabbed your phone and pressed record , wanting to get his reaction on video before urging Lady off your lap.

“Hey baby! How was your day?” You asked standing up

“It was something. I’m just glad to be home with my girls.” Jake smiled setting his bag down at the front door.

“We’re glad your home too. I have a surprise for you.” You smiled making Jake cock his brow

“What? It’s not my birthday, it’s not our anniversary, I didn’t get you anything.” Jake stressed making you chuckle

“This is for me too. Lady go see daddy!” You nudged Lady in Jake’s direction and the dog immediately stumbled towards Jake who squatted down with open arms while he was distracted by the dog you grabbed the box and held it patiently

“Lady girl! There’s my girl! What does mommy have you wearing? What is this?” Jake asked in a baby voice making you smile as he gripped the fabric to try and read it, Wendy had made her way over to the two and was rubbing her head against Jake’s leg purring. “Big Sister?”

You could see the gears in Jake’s head turning as he stared at the sweater before looking down at Wendy’s collar, his head snapped up towards you with wide glossy eyes.

“Baby? Is this what I think it is? Are you pregnant? Am I going to be a dad?” Jake asked slowly standing to his feet

“Open the box.” You smiled feeling tears burn in your eyes as you handed him the box. “Daddy.”

“Oh my god.” Jake mumbled as he looked at the contents of the box. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh baby!”

Jake carefully but quickly sat the box down on the ground before pulling you into his arms making you laugh tearfully as he spun you around.

“Oh my god! We’re having a baby! We’re having a baby! There is actually a baby inside of you right now!” Jake exclaimed cupping your face as your tears spilled over. “I love you so much. This is so perfect, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled pulling him into a kiss

Jake has doted on you your whole pregnancy, he’s been to every doctor’s appointment, any craving you have he’s out the door to get it, any ache or pain he’s giving you a entire body massage, when your hormones are too much he holds you tight and litters your face with kisses, and pregnancy sex is out of this world.

You’d just hit your 7 month mark and felt like a whale, your ankles were swollen, your back always aches, your breasts are sore and tender, and you officially can’t stand or walk without supporting your bump because it feels like the weight of your bump is going to send you to the floor. You had recently just had a small gender reveal with your dad and some of Jake’s family and learned that you were having a little boy.

Jake has been busy training for the mission and your dad has been busy being the instructor for the mission, which has led to some long days and nights with Lady and Wendy as your company. You had heard from Jake’s nightly complaining that your estranged best friend Bradley Bradshaw is back for the mission and of course they’ve been butting heads, Jake is fiercely protective of you and after learning how hurt you were when Bradley tossed you to the side Jake made it his personal mission to be the biggest ass to him he could be.

Your dad had called you and told you about the fight between Jake and Bradley and how your name had been brought up, and that Jake bragged about how you were his. You smacked Jake on the head that night but quickly got over it when he brought up the idea of a hot bath and a back rub.

Today Penny had practically begged you to come see her, she was your favorite of all your dads conquests growing up and have always kept in touch she was more your mother than your actual mother. You hesitantly said yes, not really feeling like leaving the comfort of your bed but wanting to spend some time with her.

You took a shower and washed your hair and body, since your pregnancy makes you feel sweaty and disgusting at every moment a shower did you some good. You were feeling more energized after your shower so you even did your makeup routine and did a cute braid in your hair. You got dressed in a flowered blue sundress and some sandals and put your regular jewelry on, barley managing to get your wedding band on your swollen finger.

Since Penny loves Lady you decided to bring her with you, and Jake’s been training her since the beginning of your pregnancy to be your watch dog, a job that Lady takes very seriously. You got her in her harness and leash before grabbing your purse and keys and walking out to your white Rang Rover. You opened the passengers side door and patted the seat.

“Up Lady! Good girl!” You smiled giving her a treat and kissing the top of her head securing the leash to the seatbelt before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.

You drove towards the hard deck with with windows down bobbing your head to your Taylor Swift playlist, the breeze blowing some of your flyaways into your lipgloss.

When you pulled into the hard deck you furrowed your brows when you saw both your dads bike and Jake’s truck in the parking lot. You got out of the car and walked around grabbing Lady’s leash and getting her out of the car before you two walked inside.

“Pen! Penny!” You called out seeing the bar empty

“Out here!” Penny called from the back deck

Lady jerked on the leash at Penny’s voice and you chuckled lightly before dropping the leash letting the energetic dog run out the back door.

“Lady!” Penny exclaimed as you walked outside seeing the golden retriever giving the woman some love. “Hey sweetheart, how you feelin?”

“Pregnant. Very pregnant.” You chuckled taking a seat beside her. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“Just taking in the view.” Penny smirked and you furrowed your brows before following her gaze to see the aviators on the beach playing football

“Oh. That’s why dad and Jake’s bike and truck are out front. I thought they snuck away to day drink.” You said making Penny chuckle

“Nope. They’ve been at it for about an hour. Jake’s already laid Rooster out twice.” Penny raised her brow and you chuckled

“That man. I told him not to be a dick, I swear he holds a grudge worse than any woman I’ve ever met.” You shook your head playing your hands on your swollen belly. “Your daddy’s a little bit of a drama Queen.”

Penny chuckled and turned her head back to the team of aviators and smiled when she saw them walking towards them.

“Looks like they’re heading this way.” Penny nudged your shoulder making you look up

Lady perked up when she first caught sight of Maverick, the dog stumbled in the sand towards him. Maverick smiled and crouched down allowing the dog to run into his embrace, licking his face in greeting.

“Lady girl! You’ve gotten so big in the last week, you just keep on growing.” Maverick smiled rubbing the dogs head

You got up with Penny’s help and walked onto the beach towards your dad, you saw Jake still down by the water with a few other pilots so you figured you’d make your way down to him.

“Hey dad.” You smiled as you walked over to him, Lady coming right back to your side

“Hey kiddo. How’s my grandson?” Maverick asked giving you a hug and kissing your forehead

“He’s being pretty lazy today, he hasn’t moved around much and when I pressed around to try to get him to move he just gave me one big kick basically telling me to shut up.” You chuckled rubbing your belly where your baby had just given you a kick, probably knowing you were talking about him

“It’s those Mitchell genes, he’s gonna be a stubborn one.” Maverick smiled gently patting your stomach

“God help us.” You shook your head. “How’s training going? I hope Jake isn’t being too much trouble.”

“It’s going. Jake’s being Jake. He’s definitely giving Bradley a hard time.” Maverick said

Jake was the one who put you back together, when you met you had some serious trust issues and were battling some depression as well. Even before you finally agreed to date him, Jake was always protective of you and when you finally opened up and let him in he swore no one was ever going to hurt you again.

“He’s just protective, you know that.” You sighed and Maverick nodded

“I know. I’m glad he looks out for you.” Maverick said looking slightly over your shoulder making you smirk

“You know, she still loves you.” You said making him snap his gaze back to you

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maverick shook his head and you chuckled

“She’s been like my mother my whole life. I wish you’d make it official.” You said kissing his cheek before making your way towards Jake

“Y/N?” A voice asked from behind you making you pause, you knew that voice it’s one you’d never be able to forget no matter how hard you tried

You slowly turned around and saw Bradley standing in front of you, he was wearing his dads old aviators and some cut off jean shorts without a shirt. He’s grown up since you saw him last, now sporting the mustache that looked so much like Goose’s.

“Bradley.” You nodded managing a small smile, you felt Lady settle herself right on your side nearly sitting on your foot in a protective position

“Look. I don’t want any trouble. I know I screwed up so bad, cutting you out of my life was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done. I was just so mad about what had happened that I didn’t even think that you might not of known about it I just decided that you had just as much to do with it as Mav and that was the end of it. You didn’t deserve that, I know that now.” Bradley sighed sadly looking down at your bump that you were cradling

“You’re right. I didn’t deserve that. I loved you Bradley, I honestly thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. You were my best friend and I know you were going through a rough time losing Carole and then your papers. But I lost her too, she was the closest thing I had to a mom and I loved her so much. I was grieving and then I lost you too.” You paused to clear your throat. “I don’t know. Maybe if you had stuck around I never would’ve met Jake, and I wouldn’t trade him and our life together for the world. I don’t want to bring my son into the world with any hard feelings, I don’t want any grudges to be passed down to him. So, I am willing to try and move past this. You were family once Brad, I think that maybe we could be that again.”

Bradley cleared his throat and looked away before looking back towards you.

“I would really like that. I’m happy for you kid, as much as I hate to say it I’m glad that you have Jake and happy that you found someone who will love and take care of you. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this right, I promise.” Bradley said and you nodded reaching down to pet Lady when she nudged your leg

“I think we can do that.” You smiled softly one that Bradley mirrored

“Congratulations. I remember how you always talked about being a mom.” Bradley said gesturing to your stomach

“Thank you. It’s a little boy.” You smiled adoringly down at your stomach

Before anything else could be said, a familiar presence was felt behind you before arms wrapped around your waist and gently cupped your stomach pulling you back into a warm firm chest.

“Everything good here?” Jake asked leaning down to kiss the spot right under your ear

“Everything’s fine.” You nodded towards Bradley who nodded in agreement

“Yeah. Uh, congrats on the baby.” Bradley told Jake who nodded

“Thanks.” Jake said before taking Lady’s leash from your hands. “Want to get some food?”

“Yes. I’m starving.” You said and Jake chuckled taking your hand into his

“Let’s go then, I’m sure Penny would make you that burger you love.” Jake said pulling you towards the hard deck

“I’ll see you around.” You told Bradley who nodded watching as you left with Jake’s arm now wrapped around your waist

Bradley watched Jake lean down to kiss your forehead gently as he led you and your dog back towards the hard deck where everyone else was standing around the back deck talking. He watched your smile as you talked to Phoenix and Bob and as you were introduced to everyone else. He smiled softly, he fully expected to be filled with jealousy when he saw you and Jake together.

But seeing how happy you were, your bright smile and sparkling eyes as you cling to Jake’s side. You deserve the world and if Jake can give it to you then that’s enough for him.

Taglist

@daughterofthereaper02

@luckyladycreator2

@calpurniatypes

@littlebadariell

@qnfluvr

@raefoxiegirl

@maverick-wingman

@avada-kedrava-bitch

@army24--7

#top gun maverick #pete mitchell #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #pete mitchell x daughter reader #pete maverick mitchell #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader

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the-authoress-writes · 6 months

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If You Please

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Lawyer!reader

Written for @roosterforme’s Top Gun Rocktober Playlist Fic Challenge

Synopsis: It’s not everyday that one’s best friend gets married, it’s not everyday that one is asked to be said friend’s Maid of Honor, and it’s certainly not everyday one meets a gorgeous, blond naval aviator.

Much less that one gets to dance the night away with the aforementioned naval aviator.

Warnings: Nothing, really, just a prerequisite creepy cousin, and a little teensy bit of cursing, but other than that, I don’t think there’s anything else.

Author’s Note: This is my first fic written for a fic challenge, and I am so grateful to @roosterforme for organizing this, and for allowing me to use one of my favorite 80s songs—Alannah Myles’ “Black Velvet”, as well as to @bradshawsbaby, who made the absolutely gorgeous moodboard for this fic.

You are both incredible, lovely people, and amazing writers!!

Everyone should go check out their stories—go, seriously.

I’ve made liberal use of lines from the song in this fic, but it’s just so absurdly appropriate for Jake that I didn’t even really feel that bad.

It’s also my first time writing Jake, so I’m not exactly sure I did him justice, but I’m looking forward to seeing what everyone thinks!

One down, one to go!!

And so, here we go!!!

She looked at her best friend dancing with her new husband, a smile on her lips.

She couldn’t be happier for her best friend, Cristina Nievara, formerly Cristina Machado.

The wedding was perfect, and went off without a hitch, and now, as the Maid of Honor, she could now relax—the hard part was over.

She sighed, sipping from her glass of rosé, rolling her neck from side to side.

At that moment, as if the very air shifted around her, or some preternatural sense alerted her, she became aware of a masculine presence behind her.

“Everyone’s dancing.”

At the smooth Texan drawl, a smile involuntarily split her lips. “That they are.”

“Everyone but you, Counselor.”

She angled her head to look into the emerald eyes of Jake Seresin. “Neither are you.”

“Hmm—little old me, well, I’m just waiting for the right partner.”

Her mouth ran a little dry, and she sipped from her glass again, trying to keep her composure. “And who would the right partner be?”

He hummed lightly, “I have an idea; she’d be kind, gentle—sweet, even—but opinionated when she needs to be, absurdly competent, insanely beautiful, and incredibly sexy.”

She hissed a breath between her teeth. “That’s quite the criteria.

Not sure you’ll be able to find a girl like that.”

“Well, I’m thinking I’m looking right at her.”

She couldn’t help it, her head whipped around to face him, so fast she worried she got whiplash, for her to find that his gaze was fixed intently and intensely on her.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she swallowed reflexively. “You sure you’re looking right?”

Jake made a show of looking at her up and down, his gaze somehow respectful despite the intensity she could see in his eyes. “I know I’m looking right.

Would you like to dance, Counselor?

Only if you please, though.”

She huffed a chuckle, shaking her head. “Well, since you asked so nicely, how can I refuse?”

And she set her glass down, before placing her hand into his outstretched one.

As Jake led her to the dancefloor, she mentally looked back—a month ago, never in a million years did she imagine that she’d be dancing with this man.

One month earlier…

She had no idea how Cris had managed to rope her into this.

But that wasn’t completely the truth; actually, she did.

Her best friend, Cristina Machado, was getting married to her fiancé, Gabriel Nievara, in her and Gabriel’s hometown of New Orleans.

And of course, Cris had to have her best friend as her Maid of Honor.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love Cris, on the contrary, she’d do anything for that woman, they were each others’ ride-or-die since college, but it was moments like this, where she was currently being hit on by Cris’ creepy cousin, Marco, that almost made her reconsider.

And this was only a family and friends get-together at the large Machado family home a month before the wedding.

Marco was going on and on about how much money he made as a real estate agent, and she had been trying to get out of this conversation repeatedly, but she couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

If she had more energy, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him off, but she had just come from a too-long deposition (literally throwing her dress on after), and her attitude was habitually completely different from the shark she had to be as a lawyer and in courtrooms, like a coat she put on, as a way of keeping her work separate from her personal life.

At this point, she was debating on dissociating from exhaustion, or looking for a way out, any way out—she was even debating the merits of just running away, and locking herself in the bathroom, which was looking more and more appealing by the second—when a drawling voice proclaimed, “There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

She turned and saw a vaguely familiar dark blond-haired man striding towards her, looking rather like something out of a grocery store romance novel, with his movie star-blinding smile, in a pair of dark jeans, and a thin jacket over a henley, Wayfarers tucked into the collar.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I—I just got caught up with Marco,” she beamed, relief coursing through her.

“Well, uh, Cris wants to talk to you, asked me to come get you,” he nodded.

She latched onto that like a drowning woman. “Oh, I better go then, Maid of Honor stuff, you know—it was a pleasure talking with you, Marco, hopefully I’ll see you around,” she said, all in one breath, as she backed away, before immediately turning to follow her savior.

She blew out a breath, running a hand through her hair. “So, Cris wanted to talk to me, right?”

He clicked his tongue, glancing back to Marco, now on the prowl for his next hapless victim, “Not really, I just saw you looking like you would rather the Good Lord struck you dead then and there rather than continue talking with Marco.

But then again, most people tend to look like that when they talk with him.

So I decided to rescue you.”

She blinked. “Oh—well—thank you so much for the assist.

That was pretty good back there.”

“Not a problem, I’m used to coming in clutch.

And I am very good,” he winked, which made her huff a laugh as she fought the urge to tug the collar of her dress—how did it seem to get two or three degrees warmer just then?

He continued, sticking out his hand, “I’m Jake, Jake Seresin.”

She reciprocated the gesture, telling him her name, to which Jake replied, “Mmm, pretty name for a pretty girl.”

She rolled her eyes, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Can’t help it if it’s true,” he smirked.

God, why was it so hot?

Even for New Orleans, November had absolutely no right being this hot.

“So, uh, how do you know Cris?” she blurted, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“Through Javy,” Jake replied, referring to Cris’ older brother, “we—we’re both in the navy, but I’ve known the Machados for almost fifteen years,” he finished, almost bashfully.

At that moment, it clicked for her who Jake was; she’d seen him in the Machado Christmas photo for several years. “I know Javy’s a pilot, so, are you—”

“We prefer the term naval aviator—but yes, we both fly F-18s,” he finished, a somewhat smug and proud look on his face.

“Fighter jets, huh?

You any good?”

At this, he looked indignant. “‘Any good’?

I graduated number one in my TOPGUN class, you are looking at one of the best fighter pilots in this country.”

“Okay,” she nodded, a chuckle escaping her as she ducked her head, “my sincerest apologies.”

When she looked back up, she saw him turn to face the deck, rubbing the back of his neck, the stone on the ring on his right middle finger catching the light.

“Uh, apology accepted,” he murmured. “And er, Cris is up there on the deck if you wanted to talk to her anyway,” he gestured, turning to face her again.

Well, her romance novel moment was nice while it lasted.

“Ah, I know when I’m not wanted,” she nodded.

“No,” Jake literally yelped, garnering several glances, which made him rub the back of his neck again, “I mean, no, it’s, it’s not like that, I just thought that you might want to be around friends, not a random stranger.”

“Well, I’d hardly call you a random stranger—you did save me from Marco, so I’d say that at least puts you firmly in acquaintance territory,” she deadpanned.

An honest to God guffaw escaped him, and she couldn’t help but note the way it made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

When he got control of himself again, he breathed, “In that case, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Same here.”

Silence soon fell over them, but strangely, she didn’t feel it was in any way awkward—it felt almost easy, despite the inexplicable rising tension which she could feel beginning to draw tightly.

“Jerk!!!”

She whipped her head in the direction the call had come from, grinning when she saw the jumping figure of Cris, on the deck, as Jake said, who was waving her hand, beckoning her over.

“Bitch!!!” she eagerly called back, replying with the matching nickname she had for Cris, which the latter always joked Supernatural stole from them.

“Huh… so it is true, girls call each other that,” she heard, and she turned to see Jake watching her with a grin on his face.

“It’s a thing we have,” she brushed off, knowing that others might find that strange.

“Hey, no judgment here—I call my wingman Chicken or Big Dick.”

That actually made her splutter. “I’m going to need an explanation for those nicknames next time.”

He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite pin down. “‘Next time’, huh?

You uh, looking forward to a next time?”

“Yeah, if only to get an answer for why those nicknames for your wingman,” she breathed. “You’re going to be around—for the wedding, right?”

She tried not to sound too hopeful.

“I’m thinking I will be, and I think for the in between,” he stated, seriously.

“Okay, so I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

“I’ll be seeing you,” and he warmly nodded in a way that made her oddly think that if he were wearing a Stetson, he’d be tipping it to her, before going off towards the grill which was currently being manned by Mr. Machado.

She exhaled sharply, then began to ascend the stairs to the top of the deck, where she was immediately intercepted by Cris.

“I see you met Jake,” Cris grinned.

“Yeah, I did, it’s nice to finally meet the odd man out on your guys’ Christmas card,” she breathed, trying to keep her tone light.

“Mm-hmm,” Cris replied, an odd glint in her eyes. “You two looked… cozy.”

“I—he saved me from Marco, and I was making conversation, you know, but he was nice; a little cocky, but nice,” she replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Uh-huh.”

That glint was unfortunately still present in Cris’ eyes, and she lightly shoved the other woman in the shoulder. “It’s not like that, you—you are just… projecting because you’re so stupid happy with Gabriel.

We literally had one conversation, for God’s sake.”

Her best friend poked her in the arm, “‘One conversation’ was how it started for me and Gabe.

And I’m not projecting, you and Jake looked very comfortable together.

And for another thing, you cannot tell me you did not notice how hot he is.”

“Cris!” she hissed, glancing around to see if Gabriel was around. “You are engaged!”

“I am an engaged woman, but I can admit when a man is hot as hell.

And Jake Seresin is hot as hell,” Cris stated, raising her eyebrows, looking expectantly at her.

At first, she just stared, not sure what Cris wanted from her, but when it clicked, she sighed, “Seriously?”

“Admit it.”

“I—” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “I—w—oh, fine.

Jake is hot.

Happy?”

“Very.”

And with a smile, Cris practically bounced over to the other side of the deck.

“Cris! Cris!” She hurried after her best friend, knowing the other woman was undoubtedly planning something. “What are you planning?” she called, soon catching up.

“Planning what?”

“My bestie here finally met Jake, Jav,” Cris beamed, turning to face her older brother.

“Ah, that’s good,” Javy nodded, before also catching the glint in his sister’s eyes. “Okay, glint, you have a glint, what happened?”

“I had one conversation with your friend, Javy, and Cris is blowing it all out of proportion,” she interrupted.

Unfortunately for her, Javy’s eyes lit up in what was practically a carbon copy of Cris’ expression. “Oh. Cozy?” he asked, addressing Cris.

“Very,” her best friend nodded.

“Huh.”

In what was an unnerving display of sibling synchronicity, they both looked at her with identical glints.

“No.

Absolutely not.

Whatever you two are planning, no.”

“What makes you think we’re planning anything?” Javy protested.

She offered them a raised eyebrow.

Javy sighed, “Cris wants you happy, I want my boy happy—you could be happy together!”

“No, I am not going to be matchmade at a wedding!

It’s a walking cliche!” she protested.

Cris and Javy looked at each other, some sort of understanding passing between them.

“Okay, fine, we won’t try to set you up with Jake,” Cris sighed.

“Thank you!”

That was a month ago, and well, if they weren’t going behind her back, and orchestrating things like puppetmasters, which was highly unlikely, she could only chalk the amount of times she’d been thrown together with Jake to fate.

She had been seated with him at every lunch and dinner they were both invited to, paired with him at every wedding-related event and activity, every friends and family outing.

And somehow, there was always one person extra in the outing, and somehow, Jake was always the one to drive her, and only her, in his rental.

If she were being honest with herself, she wasn’t going to complain, especially not when it led to easy conversations allowing her to see below the cockiness, to see and know Jake, and she definitely wasn’t going to complain when it came to the… very hands-on crash courses she received from him when it came to mini-golf and bowling.

She was only human, after all.

And now, after numerous dinners, wedding related events and activities, after getting to know and see him, she could honestly say that she was more than halfway in love with Jake Seresin.

But she was uncertain of where things stood with him.

Yes, he hadn’t looked once at the bridemaids and various women who’d been throwing themselves at him, but that wasn’t a guarantee of anything.

However, that didn’t stop her from taking pride in the somewhat dumbstruck, glazed way he looked at her as she stood there on the altar, his eyes only for her, even as Cris was walking in her very elegant and beautiful dress down the aisle of the church.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at her like that.

The next time their gazes met, Cris and Gabriel had just been pronounced husband and wife, Gabriel dramatically taking Cris in his arms and dipping her before kissing her, to whoops and cheers.

She couldn’t help the way her eyes drifted to Jake, only to find that he was already looking at her, and she swore that that was longing she could see in his piercing gaze, but she couldn’t completely determine the expression before she had to follow Cris and Gabriel out of the church, and from there, they hadn’t seen each other.

Until he asked her to dance.

Now, as they moved on the dancefloor, all she was aware of was him, the feeling of his arms around her, his eyes gazing into her very soul, making heat like fire dance along her spine—but it wasn’t like a wildfire, relentless and uncontrollable.

Rather, it was like a cozy fire on a cold day, one you wanted to just lie down in front of—getting closer and closer until the fire seeped into your veins, into the very marrow of your bones, into your very soul.

And wasn’t that more dangerous?

The filament of her mind that was still cognizant of things, dimly registered that Jake was leading her fluidly and elegantly across the floor.

“You’ve got moves, Seresin,” she said.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Enduring two years of cotillion and being pressganged into filling in for uneven numbers at Annapolis’ Ballroom Club will do that to a person.” He gracefully spun her before pulling her back into him. “You ain’t half-bad either, counselor,” he drawled in that slow, southern style.

“I too, bear the scars of cotillion,” she smiled.

That provoked a chuckle and a smile from Jake—and like it always did, that smile did its level best to bring her to her knees.

It wasn’t the obnoxious shark-like grin he had when he was being annoying on purpose, nor the cutting, sarcastic one he used when he was knocking someone down a peg or two.

No.

This one, which she’d only seen directed at her, was like his whole soul was smiling, and it had an innocence about it, despite the fact that at first glance, this man seemed made for nothing but sin.

“Well, in that case, you’ve got very graceful and elegant scars.

And I must admit, I’ve never had such a beautiful woman dancing in my arms before.”

She couldn’t help but scoff and laugh incredulously.

“What?” Jake inclined his head.

“I don’t know if you’re bullshitting me or being honest with me, because I somehow can’t believe that I’m the most beautiful woman you, of all people, have danced with.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “What exactly do you mean?”

“You—you want me to spell it out?”

He hummed, “Let’s just say this witness would like a little leading here, counselor.”

She laughed, before sighing, “You, Jake Seresin, are… well—more than a little bit attractive, and I cannot believe that there wasn’t more than one pretty southern belle in your arms.”

He smirked wickedly, “You sayin’ I’m hot?”

Flustered, she exclaimed, “O—objection—hostile witness!”

“Overruled, witness will answer,” he easily parried.

“Th—that’s not your line.”

He playfully sniffed, “I’m still thinking I’d like an answer, there.”

“You’re killing me here,” she breathed, wanting to duck her head and hide, but in Jake’s arms, there wasn’t exactly any place to escape.

Jake leaned closer, pressing her against him, clouding her senses even more, as he ducked his head to murmur into her ear, his breath warm against her neck, “But you like it.”

She looked up at him, blindly following his lead, placing her trust in him to not let her fall flat on her face, and whispered, “You’re trouble, Jake Seresin.” She shook her head, picked up the frayed threads of her wit and courage, and plowed on. “Yes, I think you are more beautiful than any man has a right to be.

And not just because of the way you look.”

Jake, who had been wearing a somewhat smug expression during her declaration, froze at her last sentence. “That’s new.”

“What?”

“Someone seeing more than a pretty face here,” he replied incredulously.

“I’d kind of have to be blind to not see it, but, I’ve seen what you’ve shown me—what you’ve let me see, and while I won’t presume to completely know you already, I… I like what I see; in every way.”

Some sort of emotion broke in his eyes, something the shadowed dancefloor didn’t really allow her to see clearly, but he murmured, “Dance with me?”

“We already are,” she smiled gently.

“I mean…” he strangely foundered, before continuing, “may I fill your dance card, counselor?”

Teenage her wouldn’t believe what was happening. “Won’t it be boring, dancing with me all night long?”

“Don’t care.

May I?

Only if you please.”

They danced through a more brightly lit area, and she saw the honesty in his piercing sea foam eyes.

In that moment, something told her that if she said no, she’d regret it for the rest of her life, leaving her longing for one more dance. “Well, looks like I’m yours for the night.”

Jake blinked, a rough chuckle escaping his mouth. “You are, huh?”

“Not—not like that—I—” she stammered.

He laughed this time, full and loud, “Relax, counselor, I don’t make it a habit of taking what I’m not given.

I was raised a good Christian boy, after all.”

“Didn’t even know the word good was in your vocabulary,” she breathlessly replied.

“Oh, don’t you remember, counselor,” he leaned in, voice dipping low, making everything fade into the background, “I am good—I’m very good.”

Her breath hitched, and he swept her across the floor, the two of them dancing the night away.

An hour and a half later, the night was wrapping up, and it was time to send the new Mr. and Mrs. Nievara to their honeymoon suite in the hotel upstairs.

She and Jake promptly got separated, eventually finding herself in the press of women lined up for the bouquet toss.

She personally disliked it because it baffled her how a literal bunch of flowers could turn a group of women into feral cats.

So, she was determined not to reach for it, no matter what.

Cris walked to the center of the dancefloor, and counted down. “Three, two, one!!”

In the space between one blink and the next, a massive bouquet of red roses was in her arms, and she couldn’t help but gawk.

Most of the women cheered as they dispersed—though some sent her dirty looks—while Cris approached her, beaming from ear to ear. “Thank you so much, Jerk, I don’t know how I would have been able to make it through without you.”

She clasped Cris’ arms, “It was my pleasure, Bitch.

Now you go get some rest with that husband of yours—” she paused, considering, before finishing with a wink, “or not.”

Cris just laughed, “You too—don’t think that I didn’t notice who you danced with—or rather, who you danced the night away with.”

She scoffed, but Cris whispered, “You do know the tradition behind the bouquet toss, right?”

“Cris—”

“I’m not saying you’re going to be walking down the aisle with him any time soon, but what I am saying, is let things play out, you never know.”

She stared at Cris’ earnest face for a beat, before slapping her lightly on the arm. “You’re so in love, it’s fried your brain.”

“I’m thinking yours is too.

Think about it.”

And with a final hug, all the guests cheered as Gabriel carried Cris out of the ballroom.

Soon after, she was hanging around Candice-Marie, the wedding planner, trying to help in any way she could, but the kindly older woman, with whom she’d been working closely leading up to the wedding, shooed her off, saying, “You go on now, you’ve done enough, sweetheart.

I can handle this.

You go enjoy the rest of your night with your handsome gentleman,” she winked.

She didn’t even have time to reply, or to be shocked, before she was swiftly left alone in the middle of the dancefloor.

She turned, blinking, seeing Jake slowly walking onto the dancefloor to stand before her. “So… looks like it’s just you and me, counselor.”

“Certainly looks that way, Lieutenant.”

He mock-winced. “What happened to ‘Jake’, I thought we were getting along so well.”

She couldn’t help her laugh. “I’m sorry—Jake.”

He fleetingly grinned, before turning serious. “So…”

“So… no plans for a… wild night with Javy?

Night’s still young… ish.”

“He can survive without me.

On the ground, at least,” he teased, inclining his head. “So it looks like my dance card’s empty.

I’m all yours.”

“Oh, are you?” she said, poorly concealing her laughter, at the way the tables had turned from earlier.

He looked at her, wondering what was funny, and she got to see his lightbulb moment. “I—I did not mean it that—I mean—unless—I—I mean—I’m—I’m just going to shut up, now,” he lamely finished.

“That was incredible and adorkable.”

“I’ve been called many things in my life, but never adorkable.”

“First time for everything, I guess.” The moment hung for a beat, before she continued, “Well, you’re in for a pretty boring night, then, because I am exhausted, and I am going to go up to my hotel room,” she sighed.

A frown creased his brow. “You live in New Orleans, and yet you rented a hotel room.”

“I am what, again?”

Jake clicked his tongue, an expression like he was berating himself on his face. “Exhausted.”

It was late, she’d had a couple of drinks (though that excuse was wearing a little thin, given that she’d drank them hours ago), so she allowed herself to be a little silly, and she whipped out double finger guns. “Star witness, here.

But… you can walk me to my room.”

His eyes lit up, and he extended his elbow in the old-fashioned way. “Lead the way, madam.”

They slowly walked out of the ballroom, moving towards the elevator bank.

It was a decent walk, and it was done in a comfortable silence, during which she narrowly kept herself from leaning her head against his arm.

When they arrived at the elevator bank, there was still a decent crowd of people from the wedding stood there, which made her groan. “This is going to take forever.”

“If you’re up for more of a walk, there’s another elevator bank up on the mezzanine,” Jake offered.

A despairing look up at him. “Stairs?”

“Stairs.

But you’ll be in your room sooner.”

She deliberated. “Fuck it—stairs.”

This time, she followed him up the grand oak staircase, wincing with each step—no matter how broken in a pair of heels were, at a certain point, they all became instruments of torture.

At the top of the stairs, she saw that there was blessedly, no one around, but the thought of walking one more step in her heels was a bridge too far, and she tugged Jake towards the mezzanine railing. “Wait, let me take these off.”

Keeping one hand on the wood rail, she eased the strap of her heel out of the buckle, when she overbalanced, and lurched forward.

Strong hands caught her to a firm chest, and she looked up into his verdant eyes, her whole being caught.

“God, but I really want to kiss you right now, counselor,” he rasped, his voice, pure tone draped in yearning.

“Technically, I don’t kiss on the first date,” she instinctively spoke, and she could see his gaze shutter as he began to loosen his grip slightly, when she drew him even closer, pulling him in by fisting her hand in the lapel of his black velvet suit jacket. “But… technically… we’ve already had so many first dates, haven’t we?”

It took him a moment, but she could literally see the shutters on his gaze being flung open, being replaced by a mischievous sparkle. “We have, haven’t we.”

“Hard to see a reason why you shouldn’t kiss me, in that case.”

He smiled, the innocence of his little boy’s smile contrasting with the smoldering desire in his viridian eyes.

The next thing she knew, Jake’s lips were on hers, and he was kissing her.

In a split second, the fire that had warmed her very soul, now rushed through her blood, consuming everything that wasn’t Jake Seresin, until the only coherent thought was of him.

If not for his arms around her, the deep, searching caress of his mouth on hers was enough to bring her to her knees then and there, his kiss a new religion.

The kiss lasted a moment, it lasted eternity, but she knew that from that point on, she’d never have enough—he’d always leave her longing for more.

The breath which so rudely surged into her lungs seemed like poor recompense for his kiss.

Jake looked about as wrecked as she felt, his lashes fluttering over half-lidded eyes, his forehead leant against hers. “An absolutely stunning, whip-smart woman who sees me and likes it, with a gorgeous smile and laugh—damn, I think I’ve found the reason my dance card’s going to be full for the foreseeable future,” he murmured.

A sound between a chuckle and a gasp of air slipped from her lips as a thrill raced through her.

“Only if you please though,” he added, a teasing note in his voice.

“I very much please,” she replied.

“Yeah?”

God, his smile—screw halfway in love—her heart was his through and through.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Now kiss me again.”

Jake chuckled, “Well, since you asked so nicely, how can I refuse?”

He kissed her again, and in that kiss, forever laid at her feet, spread out before her.

What does it say about me that I know exactly what model Ray-Bans Glen used in TG:M?

😂

I did totally take the the “Jerk. Bitch.” interaction from Supernatural.

If you look at the nametags in TG86, below the names, you’ll see “TOPGUN 1”, so I’m going to assume there’s more than one TOPGUN class/session in a year, at least in the TG/TG:M universe.

There’s a headcanon going around that Jake and Javy were either tied, or one and two respectively, in their TOPGUN class, so I went with that.

(I headcanon that Bradley and Natasha were in the same TOPGUN class, and Natasha was number one, while Bradley was number two.)

I vacillate between Old Money!Jake and Working/Middle Class!Jake on a fairly regular basis, but for the purposes of this story, I went with Old Money!Jake.

Apparently, cotillion is still alive and well in Texas, so Jake having that experience is highly plausible.

USNA does have a Ballroom Club, although, like with most things in fanfiction, I might be taking liberties with the time of its establishment, because I don’t know when that got started.

Taglist

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#the defense department regrets to inform you your daughters are *ded* because of the navy(al aviators)#top gun rocktober #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fic #top gun maverick fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #glen powell

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saltsicklover · 6 months

Text

Title: Not a Cyclone, But a Monsoon

Part 2 of 2 - Completed

Find Part 1 HERE, and my Master List HERE

A request based off of THIS prompt, from the lovely @inkandarsenic

Romantic Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader Past Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Platonic Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson x Fem!Reader

A few uses of Y/N

Word Count: This part: 14k+ Total Fic:20k+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talks of death, minor character deaths, labor, loss of a child in utero, abandonment, drinking, talks of God and destiny, swearing, general military talk and lingo, descriptions of food and eating, coughing fits, talks of violence, actual violence, blood, vomit and throwing up, mention of near death experiences. ANGST

---

I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED

Miramar, California. TOP GUN. The weekend before the organization of the Dagger Squad.

A cellphone is tucked between Monsoon's cheek and shoulder, the line trilling. She carries her duffle bags and kit, feeling like a battering ram as she makes her way through the crowd of people. The airport is packed and she can feel just how humid it is form how sticky she feels.

The hallways of the airport wind as she follows the crowd out of the baggage claim. The people around her move just a bit too slowly as they wheel their bags behind them, just begging for someone to trip over them if they dare pass. If there is one thing Monsoon did not miss about being at Top Gun, it's the trip in.

Fuck flying coach.

Fuck PSC Season and all of the families taking all the seats on the military flights.

Fuck the crying lady sitting next to her, who wouldn't stop sobbing at the shitty romcom she was watching, and fuck when she decided to start it over, just to watch it all over again.

But the best thing about coming back has to be seeing her surrogate father, Beau Simpson. Their relationship has only grown stronger since that night at the bar. They have spent countless meals together, drinking at bars when they are in the same place and always sending 'check in' emails. Phone calls have always been a bit dodgy between time zones and deployments.

Neither one knew exactly what they were getting into when the bond between them grew, neither really sure exactly what a parent/child relationship looks like, especially when the child is really an unrelated adult. But as the days went on, and the email chain got longer and longer, things seemed to just make sense.

The pair talked about everything, from work to dating, friendships and recipes. Cyclone opened up about June and their baby, sharing his favorite stories of their marriage. From how they started dating, to the day that June passed, Monsoon heard it all.

Calla lilies were June's favorite, the only flowers that Beau believes should ever be given to a woman, and Monsoon smiles at the memory of her graduation from Top Gun, and the way Cyclone smiled at her with the bouquet of lilies in his lap.

When Monsoon found herself in Vermont she carved out time to visit June and Baby Boy Simpson at the cemetery. She showed up with two bouquets of calla lilies and a speech to give them. Monsoon cleaned their headstones and laid the flowers delicately across their plots, speaking to them the whole time about herself, and Cyclone, and the world they live in.

Cyclone's phone buzzed in his pocket while in a meeting. When he snuck a peak, he was met with a photo of Monsoon, a light smile adorning her face as she sits just in front of the burial plots. The message read "With Mama June and Bubba, thinking of you, Pops". Cyclone had to excuse himself from the table with tears in his eyes.

As the years went on, the surfaces in Cyclone's office slowly began to fill with more photos of the two of them. The collection of frames started out sophisticated, it really did, but as time went on, the frames became more eclectic, more fun.

It's juxtaposes the rest of Cyclones office in a way that is almost comical. As he is shouting at someone for their latest fuck up, there are shelves full of silly frames just a few feet away. Cyclone's favorite just so happens to read "Clown College Class President" while Monsoon's favorite is one of those irregular shaped ones, with an oval opening for the photograph.

There is a photo of the two of them tucked in the cockpit of Monsoon's jet. It catches the mechanics off guard every time, but no one dare says a word about it- mostly out of fear that word would get back to Admiral. The photo depicts the two of them at one of those giant truck stops, posing with the large dinosaur sitting out front. She is sat atop of it, like a cowboy, with Cyclone leaning up against it, his shoulder near her thigh. They both wear larger than life smiles as the sun beats down on them. It was a silly thing, really. Both stuck in at little forgotten Air Base in middle America for a flight test, but the pair managed to make the best of it, remembering to take photographs as they went.

There is a postcard folded up in Cyclone's wallet. Once upon a time, it read the catchy saying "Why Not Minot?" printed across the front of it, with a cute little photo of a town square, a little forgotten town in North Dakota. It's one of those bases that people dread being stationed at, that much has always been true, but the little photo on the front of the post card sold a different tale. It wasn't the cutesy saying or the photo that made him keep it, the edges now worn and fibrous. On the back, written in neat blue ink, underneath a little blurb about how there is absolutely nothing to do in North Dakota, the sentence "I love you, Pops" sits next to a scribbly little heart.

The staticky, tolling, phoneline picks up after a few rings as Monsoon pushes around a family with one too many screaming toddlers. They have on those little backpack leashes and Monsoon almost gets close lined as a little dark haired child bursts in front of her without warning. She dodged, but she catches one of those damn rolling bags with her toe. Monsoon barely notices the glare the lady sent her way, but the lack luster wrath of a stranger isn't going to stop her.

"Hey, Kid," Cyclone greets over the line, the smile on his face evident through the sound of his voice. There is no need for an official "hello" to begin the conversation, both knowing full well that Cyclone had been watching the flight itinerary like a hawk to make sure Monsoon wasn't going to be delayed. The call upon landing is just expected at this point, though neither of them have mastered the cool,casual, its good to see you.

"I just landed," A woman walks right into one of the duffle bags hanging off of Monsoon's shoulders, throwing her completely off balance. She hikes the bag higher up on her shoulder, trying to rebalance the hefty weight she is carrying. Monsoon sways like she is at sea, attempting to get her balance back. There is something so familiar about the way she sways a bit, just like the jet carriers do as the waves bash against the metal of the hull.

"Fuck" she curses under her breath, steadying herself once again. For a Seaman, one might think Monsoon would have better balance. Cyclone rolls his eyes on the other side of the phone. "I'll be over for dinner tonight, if that's still the plan,"

"Sure is, I'm making your favorite,"

"Steak and potatoes are your favorite," Monsoon corrects.

"You can correct me without the side of guilt, you know," Cyclone is chuckling through the phone, earning him a roll of the eyes.

"I only meant to tease," There is a nonchalance to her voice, though she is the furthest thing from cool. Cyclone isn't either. His kid is coming home and they get to sit down for a meal for the first time in months and he is beyond excited.

"I'm going to drop my stuff off at my rental, then I'll be headed your way, you better be ready for me to eat enough for a small village," Monsoon heads right for the exit, ready to look for a taxi. "And Pops, maybe think about adding a-" The word "vegetable" fails to make it's way out of her mouth as Monsoon looks up as the double doors in front of her slide open. Cyclone is standing on the other side, a large sign reading "WELCOME HOME KIDDO" sits loosely in his hand, the other holds his phone up to his ear.

It's like one of those cheesy scenes from a movie, both wearing matching grins and laughing. Cyclone knew the whole thing would be a surprise; he took a leave day to make sure he would bet there to pick her up.

"Pops!" The name still makes Cyclone's heart swell, even if he had been responding to that very name for the past few years. It's funny, really, how easy it was for the pair to adjust to the name, though Monsoon waited for him to acknowledge it first before she actually said it.

The acknowledgement came from a recorded phone message, shortly after her first move after her Top Gun Graduation. Cyclone got stuck in on the highway with a dead car and no cellphone. The call came in from a payphone, an unknown number. Cyclone left a message, "Hey, kid, it's Pops, my car died and I am stranded. I could use an assist. Do you know anyone in Missouri?". That message is still saved on Monsoon's phone to this day.

"Hey, Kiddo!" And then Monsoon is stumbling closer, her bags swinging her center of gravity all over the place. He reaches a hand out to take one, ready to throw it over his shoulder, but instead, each one hits the pavement with a hard thud. Monsoon is quickly wrapping her arms around his body, one over his shoulder, one under his arm, meeting around his back and squeezing him hard.

The hug is returned in kind, both damn near trying to squeeze each other to death. It's playful, as they share "good to see you's" and "I've missed you's" .

"I hope you don't mind, Kid, but I invited another one of the recruits to dinner tonight," He speaks the words into her hair. Monsoon pulls back to look up at her Pops with furrowed brows. She doesn't have to say a thing, he already knows exactly what is going through her mind.

"I know it's unorthodox, but, Kazansky said it might be a good idea, and when the good Admiral says something like that, you set another place at the table,"

"Yeah, unorthodox is definitely a word for it," Monsoon is pulling out of Cyclone's embrace, dipping to grab her discarded bags from the pavement. Cyclone grabs one before she can, which earns him a roll of her eyes.

"Be nice, would you?"

"To you or the mystery guest?" Her words are dripping with sarcasm.

"Preferably both," Cyclone chides, poking her in the side with the welcome home sign. She swats it away with a quick hand, both laughing.

"I'll see what I can do,"

---

The sun is setting over the horizon, painting the sky orange with wisps of pink the lower it sinks behind the curve of the Earth. Monsoon is spread out on one of the lawn chairs, relaxing, well, more like waiting out her Pops' little outburst. She had opened the grill to check on the steak, making sure the edges wouldn't be too crispy, and Cyclone all but snapped the lid shut in the middle of her investigation. He banished her to the other side of the patio to wait for the food to finish cooking. Then, and only then, would she be allowed to touch the grill again.

If there is one thing to be true, Cyclone has a method when it comes to grilling. Monsoon had it all explained to her the first time he grilled for the pair of them. He has it down to a science, all from the temperature and the kind of charcoal to use, to the length of marinating time and spices to make even the worst cut of meat from the Commissary the most perfect dinner.

And Monsoon couldn't exactly tell him he was wrong. After all, every single thing Beau had ever placed in front of her tasted delicious, delectable even. Not only that, but Monsoon really couldn't have done it better if she tried. Her Pops wouldn't let her try, either, but that is beside the point.

Soon, everything is pulled off the grill and the pair are inside, Monsoon tasked with setting the table. All of the windows are open, the evening breeze cooling the inside of the house. As she places another fork down, Monsoon takes in the way the breeze dances across her skin. Goosebumps threaten to crest over her exposed arms at the chill the air carries. In that moment, she is thankful for the California air, the smell of the freshly made sides sitting in the center of the table, and the fact that she is setting the table in her Pops' house.

It has been too long since the pair got to sit together and share a meal. Cups of coffee over video chat were no where near as nice and Monsoon couldn't lie, she missed Cyclone's cooking. As she sets down the last knife, Cyclone is bounding down the stairs. His causal jeans and t-shirt have been replaced by a nice pair of brown slacks and a cream polo shirt, tucked in with a belt. He's even sporting loafers.

"Hey Pops, there is something I want to talk to you about tonight," Monsoon shouts down the hall. She tries to shake the bit of nerves rumbling through her chest like a handful of loan bees.

"Okay, kiddo," Cyclone calls back as he is rounding the corner into the kitchen, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, promise,"

"Okay," It's a simple response as he walks further into the kitchen. He pats her on the shoulder as he passes, a loving gesture.

"Got a hot date?" Monsoon chides as she looks him up and down. She sets the bundle of flatware down on the table, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No," Cyclone is shaking his head, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at her words. "We are having company tonight, remember?"

"Oh, I remember, but I didn't think some random Lieutenant, that is only coming over because the good Admiral all but ordered him to, was someone worth dressing up for."

There is a shrug of her shoulders as her head sways down nonchalantly. Cyclone crosses his arms, mirroring his kid, with a stern look on his face. It's a look that Monsoon isn't used to seeing out of uniform. Maybe it should worry her, but the vein that would usually protrude from his forehead is nowhere to be seen.

"Remember, kid, you too are just 'some random Lieutenant'" Those words stir a bit of anger within Monsoon, but it dissipates as fast as it came.

"Well then, Admiral Simpson, sir," Monsoon stands up a bit straighter, dropping her hands to her sides, "Let me find something more presentable to wear for the strange man who's crashing out family dinner," She grimaces a bit, but they both laugh. Beau is just laughing, in that way that make's his whole body shake, his eyes scrunched closed while whole hearted giggles escape his lips.

"Go on, kid," He waves in the general direction of the hallway, towards the front of the house where she dropped her bags by the front door.

The zipper of her duffle bag slide open easily, the separation of the teeth vibrating her fingertips. Monsoon fishes out a sun dress and a cropped sweater, something to keep her warmer as the sun sets below the horizon. It's a nice enough combination, something that will surly look like she gives a fuck about her appearance without looking like she planned too much. Monsoon changes out of her sweat shorts and t-shirt in the half bath, emerging looking like a brand new woman, though the feeling of the plane still lingers on her skin.

Just as she is stuffing her travel clothing back into her bag, the doorbell sounds throughout the house, the bells tolling just a bit too loud.

"Jeez, Pops, could that doorbell be any louder?" Monsoon is yelling just as she reaches for the door. She pulls it open with a swift movement, a smile on her face. Then it falls as soon as she sees who is standing on the other side of the threshold.

Clad in a button down shirt, one with a pattern that would rival any rodeo clown, with one too many buttons undone stands Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw; a man she hasn't seen since a deployment five years ago, about six months after she graduated from Top Gun.

There is a gold chain hanging around his neck. It's just long enough to graze over the tops of his collar bones. His shirt is untucked, the bottom a bit wrinkly, like he has tucked and untucked it a couple of times trying to decide which looked better. He made the wrong choice, by Monsoon's calculation, the patterned shirt covering the top of his dark khakis. He looks a bit silly, really, from the chain down to his boat shoes. The thing that catches her the most off guard though, is the fucking mustache he has decorating, no, vandalizing his upper lip.

Her own mouth hangs open just a bit, her hand tightening it's grip on the door handle. Bradley shoots her that mega wat smile, that million dollar, dentist office poster smile- the one that made her swoon all those years ago. But now, now it makes her fucking angry. Or maybe it's resentment that she feels boiling up inside of her, steaming her insides with a sort of sick feeling that she hasn't felt in years.

The last time this strange, queasy feeling flowed through her she was wrapped up in the white sheets of her mattress on an aircraft carrier, somewhere out in the pacific. Her naked body feeding off of the warmth of spot that Rooster once occupied. When she awoke, there was a feeling of contentment that spread over her skin, until she reached over to find the spot next to her cold.

Their deployment relationship ended with a fucking post it note, "Duty Calls" is all it read, scribbled down in a mess of black ink, the pen itself skipping. Hell, the pen couldn't even bother to work long enough to get a complete message through- their relationship simmered down to nothing more than steamy nights together in a twin size bunk while the ocean waves rocked against the carrier.

The contentment drained from Monsoon faster than than the anger could take over, and for a moment there was nothingness in the spaces between her ribs.

And now, Bradley fucking Bradshaw is standing on her Pops' front porch, smiling at her like nothing has ever happened between them, holding a bottle of wine, and somehow she is just supposed to let him in!

"Hello," He scratches at the back of his neck, his brows pinched together just the slightest bit. "Is this Admiral Simpson's house?"

Words are caught in the back of Monsoon's throat, each individual letter sticking her in the esophagus. Monsoon stands there looking at Bradley, each growing a bit more uncomfortable as the seconds go by. But, she is on the inside of the doorjamb, she has the upper hand. Just as she goes to slam the door in his fucking ugly mustache, Cyclone catches the door.

"Mr. Bradshaw!" Beau booms, his tone friendly as he sends Monsoon a what the fuck look. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, though it does nothing to relieve the rapidly growing headache that's taking over her skull.

"Come in, come in!" Cyclone practically ushers Bradley into the house. "This is my daughter, Y/N Mitchell, she is in the new Top Gun class as well!"

Beau is doing his best to defuse the tension in the room, between Monsoon's anger, and Bradley's overall discomfort from being in an Admiral's house, the vibes are askew. Bradley crinkles his brows at the information and Beau quickly jumps in with a chuckle, "No relation, but I claim her anyway. Introduce yourself, Son,"

"Brad-"

"We already know each other,"

The pair speak at the same time. Monsoon's tone is full of distain, like the words taste bitter and unforgiving on her tongue. She pushes past Bradley's outstretched hand and past Cyclone. Bradley can't help the fact that his face twists up in confusion as he wracks his brain trying to figure out where exactly he knew her.

The woman's definitely too upset to be a recent fling- hell, Bradley hasn't even managed to bring a girl back to his place in such a long time. Deployment really limited his prospects and she sure wasn't on the mission he just finished.

"Please, this way," Cyclone guides Bradley back to the kitchen, taking the bottle of wine from the younger man. They follow the path Monsoon took, down the hall and back to the large kitchen. She is standing at the sink, her hands braced on the counter top.

"Make yourself at home, Mr. Bradshaw. If you'll excuse me, I have to speak with my daughter for a second." Cyclone is moving before Bradley can acknowledge him. So, Bradley pretends to be very interested in the view just outside the kitchen window.

"What the hell, kid?" Cyclone carefully grabs Monsoon's elbow, leaning in just a little bit closer to fake some sort of privacy. He sets the bottle of wine on the counter. With all the tension blooming in the air around them, Cyclone decides alcohol is the last thing they need.

"It's complicated, Pops, just leave it be, okay?" Monsoon is running a hand through her hair, a shallow attempt to ground herself. "I can play nice for one dinner,"

"What the hell happened between you two? And it's not just one dinner, it's the next few weeks."

That fact is met with a grumble from Monsoon. It took her only a few seconds to convince herself that she would be able to make it though a dinner, but the idea of having to see Bradley fucking Bradshaw every day for the foreseeable future had a mixture of nausea and frustration swirling through her.

"Pops, trust me, this really isn't something you are going to want to hear about, nor do I feel like discussing it in your kitchen, at a whisper, while the man who doesn't even seem to fucking remember me is only a few feet away! No thank you," Monsoon pushes past Cyclone once more, picking up the bowl of salad from the kitchen island and bringing it over to the table. Cyclone is hot on her tail, speaking lowly after her.

"Y/N" That gets her to stop, Beau never uses her first name, "We are not finished discussing this,"

"After supper then," The words leave her tongue sharp, but they are met with a nod of approval. Then Cyclone is moving, ready for the night to move on as planned.

"Mr. Bradshaw!" Cyclone is turning his attention back to their guest, a makeshift smile plastered to his face, "Please, take a seat, I am just going to grab the food off the grill,"

And then Cyclone is disappearing out the back door, leaving Monsoon and Rooster alone, the room already threatening to burst from the rapidly accumulating tension. Monsoon chances a look at Bradley as she finished setting out the flatware that had been left abandoned earlier, suddenly a little bit glad that her Pops hinted at her to change clothes. She looks good, that much she knows, if only it mattered at this point.

Maybe, if it mattered, Bradley would look at her and realize just how much he walked out on. Maybe he would see the way Cyclone cares for her, and their little family that they've created and know that he threw away his chance to be apart of it. If only he could see just how happy she is now- yet he doesn't even fucking recognize her, and that makes her heart burn like cheap kerosene. It's like gulping down saltwater, the feeling of being forgotten, drowning right out in the open for everyone to see.

As Monsoon is drowning in thoughts of Bradley, he is just trying to remember her.

Bradley takes in the slope of her nose and the freckles that are smattered across her legs. His eyes wander over the frizzy bits of her hair, down the line of her shoulder and ending at the tips of her fingers. The way that she glances at him, her face still turned down as she adjusts the table settings, strikes him as familiar- but in a far off sense of the word. Familiar in the way his own face is reminiscent of his father's.

His father, Goose, and Maverick... Pete Mitchell... Mitchell!

"Mitchell?" Bradley breaks the silence, his gaze a bit wider, still locked on her downturned face. Monsoon's eyes shoot up at the name, locking with his dark brown eyes. They bore into her the same way they always had and a part of her aches.

"Are you-" The breath he sucks into his lungs burns a bit with hazy memory, "Are you Pete Michell's kid?"

An audible, pained groan leaves Monsoon's throat at the question.

"Not anymore," Are the only words she can manage, the flames of anger licking at her legs.

"But you were, once?" There is almost a ribbon of hope laces somewhere in his tone, but Monsoon pays it no mind. She walks away from the table, keeping her back to Bradley as she attempts to calm the heat of rage that's licking at her legs.

Why couldn't Bradley just ask her about normal things? Why aren't they talking about work, their partners, their friends. Hell, he could hit on her at this point and it would go over better.

If he wanted to talk about Maverick- Pete Michell, there were countless times when they were tangled up together in blankets, in the dark save for the crack of light breaking into the room from under the doorway.

He could have asked as they scurried up the stairs of the carrier, their gear smacking against their chests as they ran. Bradley could have asked then, as they bounded out into the early morning, salt soaked air.

Hell, Bradley could have asked over coms, high in the air as the wind whistled past their wings. They were just test flights after all, no enemy to contend with. He could have asked her then.

But he didn't.

"That was a very long time ago," She's turning to the fridge, pulling a pitcher of lemonade out. The sigh that leaves her lips is nothing but tension attempting to escape from the confines of her chest. It doesn't work, and Bradley doesn't catch the hint to just shut the fuck up and leave it be.

"We knew each other, right? When we were kids?" The question catches Monsoon off guard, almost as much as his initial presence did. She wants to laugh, really she does, at the ridiculousness of the situation.

He didn't remember that fact when they met on the carrier five years ago, and Monsoon tried not to let that bother her, especially when he was buried inside of her, moaning filthy things into her ear. But now? Now he remembers. But somewhere, the memory of their torrid love affair escapes the great mind of Bradley Bradshaw.

"Oh, for fucks sake,"

Though the whole thing is laughable; Bradley isn't laughing. He's holding his breath, too caught up in the scene in front of him, in the soreness of his chest and the way his heart thrums against the backside of his ribcage.

Fuck how his chest aches.

There is this part of his past, this piece that he once knew like the back of his hand, that's just in reach now- again, and Monsoon is laughing at him. The memory of her was erased with the sounding of artillery, the three volley's fired into the air. And now, he craves this memory like he craves the memory of his father, the pieces of his innocence having crumbling into his hands like ash.

It still stains his hands that sickly blackish gray, gritty against his skin, though he is the only one that can see it.

The sliding door opens once more and Cyclone is slipping though, holding a large platter of steak in his hand, the meat is grilled to perfection and he looks proud. Bradley looks at Monsoon with furrowed brows, questioning the words that she let slip past her lips. Cyclone steps between them, setting the plate of meat down on to the dinner table, more than enough food to go around.

"Please, Y/N, come and join us," Cyclone is pulling out a seat right next to Bradley, offering it to her. Reluctantly, she pads over, taking a seat next to Bradley who can't seem to take his eyes off of her face. He runs his hands up and down his pant legs, more out of anxiety than anything else. Cyclone takes a seat across from the pair, a tight smile on his face.

In any other world, it may look like a child introducing their significant other to their father, the way the tension hangs in the air between the trio. Cyclone awkwardly dishes himself servings of the food before passing it to Monsoon, who does the same before placing it down next to her, leaving Bradley to fend for himself. It's petty, that's true, but to Monsoon, it's a small act of defiance. A small fuck you for not remembering her, or the nights they spent together.

The Admiral knows something is going on right under his nose, just out of his understanding. He can see it in the way Monsoon shifts awkwardly in her seat while Bradley's gaze gets overly friendly with the plate in front of him. There's a question on the tip of his tongue, "kid, is Bradley your boyfriend?" but he knows better than to ask it. As he observes longer, he takes in the way his daughter tilts her shoulders just a little further away from Bradley, the arm closest to him resting elbow down on the table. The moment Cyclone notices the unpassed dishes sitting between the pair, he just knows.

"So," Cyclone clears his throat, "Are you two excited to be back at Top Gun?"

It's a reasonable question, very middle of the road. Monsoon opens her mouth to answer, but Bradley beats her to it.

"Yes, sir. It's good to be back stateside. Hell, it's good to be back on solid ground. I've been stuck on a carrier for the past nine months and I was beginning to lose my mind!" He's chuckling now, and Beau joins in right along side him, the deep chuckles of the men filling the air. "But you know how it can get on the carriers. It's hard to pass the time, no going to the bar with friends, no dating,"

Then, Monsoon's fork hits her plate with a metallic clank against the glass. No dating, yeah, right. Out of all of the things Monsoon pegged Bradley to be, a liar was not one of them, but then again not much could surprise her after the way he left.

"How about you, kid?"

"To be determined, Pops," The answer is genuine, spoken through grit teeth.

Maybe she shouldn't be so upset with Bradley's lack of remembrance for her. After all, it's not always the wrong time with the right person. Or the wrong place. Sometimes it's wrong, maybe he just didn't like her that much- more a deployment fling to get him through the lonely nights than a future.

"Well, I am excited you're back," Cyclone returns her direction, but Monsoon just shoves a fork full of salad into her mouth.

"Sir, can I ask what exactly they called us back for? And are there more of us?" Bradley asks between bites, his fork and knife busy against his plate.

"I am not obliged to share much, but I can tell you that fifteen of you have been called back, from varying Top Gun classes." The explanation leaves something to be desired, but both recruits are nodding on the other side of the table. Bradley eats another bite of steak, complimenting Cyclone on his grilling; Monsoon is just pushing the food around on her plate with the tines of her fork. It's easier than finding the appetite that was lost somewhere between the front door and the kitchen after Bradley's arrival.

"Are you teaching us this go around, Pops?" Monsoon's question is spoken quietly, in the middle of Bradley's sentence about his own grilling technique- there is no remorse for the interruption.

At her words, Cyclone visibly stiffens, his fork stilling on his plate. Then he's setting it down, eyes still locked with his plate. With a huff and a lick of his lips he looks across the table, met with two pairs of curious eyes. He knew this was going to be hard, but he didn't expect it to be quite like this.

"No, I'm not teaching," Cyclone takes another breathe, unsure who to make eye contact with, knowing the words he's about to say are not going to be received well, by either one of them. "We- Top Gun has decided to bring in-"

The doorbell is ringing loudly through the house, startling Cyclone in his seat. It breaks though the tension like a fucking bullet, the whole thing blasting apart on impact. The trio trade glances that last milliseconds, like someone just knows whos going to be standing on the other side of that door.

"I'll get it, Pops," Monsoon is already pushing out of her seat, placing her napkin next to her plate. She is a bit too eager to get away from the tension surrounding that table, not only from her question but from the way Bradley is basically staring out of the corner of his eye. Though she can't exactly see it happening, she can feel it- the way his eyes are boring into the side of her head, almost burning. She will take anyone being on the other side of that door if it means she doesn't have to sit in Bradley's swimming gaze any longer.

"No, you stay, I'll get it," Cyclone corrects, "You stay and chat,"

Then, Cyclone is pushing away from the table, heading right for the front door. He gives his daughter no time to protest. Cyclone leaves the slowly rebuilding tension behind him, and Monsoon is stuck having to sit back down, next to Bradley, left to simmer in it.

"We did know each other, right?" Bradley is quick to ask the moment Cyclone rounds the corner. It's a speed he's not used to- too used to sitting and waiting for the perfect timing that just doesn't come. But this isn't something he's willing to wait on, it's just something he has to know.

"Yes, Bradley, we knew each other. But that was a long time ago," Monsoon is shrugging, avoiding his eyes. The words should have hit him harder, from the way they all but flew from her lips, but the impact is almost gentle, like the comfort of them bore the brunt of it all.

"Do you remember my father?" The question is so innocent that it almost hurts; and Monsoon knows just how much throbbing pain there is inside Bradley. After one drunken night while on the carrier, he poured his heart out about his father, about how much he missed him and how he wished- hoped that Goose would have been proud of him. Monsoon sat and listened the to the whole thing, through the tears and drunken hiccups, reassuring Bradley that Goose would be proud of him.

After all, she knewhim, even if that was a million years ago- even if Bradley didn't know it.

She knows he would have been, because Goose was a good man.

A trait that seemed to have skipped over Bradley.

Good men remember their lovers. They remember their old friends. They remember the people who showed up to their mother's funeral- and have the decency to show up to their friends' mother's funeral.

Good men don't leave women in the dead of night, a break up message scrawled on a sticky note. They don't leave their friends to grieve alone. They don't forget.

"Yes, I remember him," Monsoon chances a glance at Bradley, unintentionally meeting his eyes. God, he's looking at her like she holds the fucking secrets to the universe and all she can feel is a sort of twisted up sickness, like her sternum is bound together with poisoned ropes. Bradley can see the stars that cling to her fingertips, the secrets to the cosmos, but can't seem to find the words to beg for their translation.

Cyclone is walking back into the room a second later, accompanied by another set of footsteps. Neither Monsoon nor Bradley look up when they walk in, both too busy staring at each other. Bradley looks curious, Monsoon looks hurt.

She looks away first.

A tall blond walks in behind Cyclone, his gaze focused on a set of files in his hand. He's reading over the top file carefully, running his free hand through his cropped hair. There is a toothpick in his mouth, resting between his teeth. Dressed in his tan uniform, his biceps are straining against the cuffs.

He's a Stetson model type, clean cut and masculine. The line of his jaw accentuated by the clean lines of his uniform. His jaw ticks with frustration as his brows furrow at the paperwork. There appears to be a word on the tip of his tongue by the way the toothpick bobs between his plump lips.

"Hey, guys, sorry for that, this is-" Cyclone swings his hand, introduction interrupted by twin gasps.

"Jake?!"

"Hangman?"

Hangman isn't sure who to look at first, but his eyes meet Bradley's form first, his eyebrows knitting together at the familiar face before shooting to his hairline when his eyes land on Monsoon sitting next to Bradley.

"Y/N, Doll! What are you doing here?"

Cyclone is whipping his head around in the way he might flip a jet. And Monsoon is pushing out of her chair again, ready to round the table and throw herself into the arms of the strong, blond man who just walked in, but her eyes meet the bewildered look on Cyclone's face, causing her to halt her movements. Hangman sets the paperwork down on the kitchen island, his eyes still locked on Monsoon, that damn smirk of his playing on his lips. Monsoon can tell he is holding himself back, fully aware of exactly who's house he is standing in, and the relationship between Monsoon and the Admiral.

It's been months since they've seen each other. Their goodbyes were said on the front porch of his little rental outside of Lake Hurst. Neither of them relished being in New Jersey, but they had each other and that's all that had mattered. They fostered a brand new relationship over a year, neither of them brave enough to label the nights spent together in that house.

Then new orders came down the pipeline, on a TS Need-To-Know. The pair were being separated with the flick of a pen. So, they labelled their year long relationship through tears standing on his stoop, the night the orders came down the channel.

They packed Jake's small house, and Monsoon's apartment, neither one knowing just what was to come. In the name of a temporary duty station, they got storage units next to each other, the closest thing to living together they'd be able to swing.

That was six months ago.

Monsoon did a little time in Pensacola while Jake got sent to Oak Harbor. Thousands of miles apart, their dates turned from late night dinners to quick conversations over the phone just to hear the other's voice.

Neither of them expected their reunion to be here, in Admiral Simpson's kitchen, with Bradley Bradshaw and the Admiral watching the whole thing, confused expressions written into their features.

"I got recalled to Top Gun!" Monsoon giggles a bit, her gaze still trapped with Hangman's.

"Me too!" The words leave Jake's lips and the pair are smiling. It's taking everything for them to hold themselves back from embracing each other, after months apart. Then, Cyclone is clearing his throat.

"Pops," Monsoon begins, clasping her hands in front of her, "God, this is weird. Remember earlier this evening when I said I wanted to talk to you about something?"

She had fully been intending on telling her Cyclone about her relationship with Hangman, in fact, she had been working up the courage for the past few weeks. But, Jake comes with a record, a reputation, and a respect problem, things Monsoon knows her Pops won't approve of.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" The words are leaving Cyclone's lips almost too quick, but Monsoon is quick to reassure him that it is.

"Well, this isn't exactly how I saw this going, but, Pops, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Jake Seresin," Monsoon is gesturing to Jake now, a worried smile on her face. The pair know each other, of course they do. They had met the first time Hangman went through Top Gun. Cyclone was on instructor duty and Hangman didn't take overly well to being instructed; though he did finish top of his class.

Monsoon bobs up and down on the balls of her feet, the nervous energy flowing through her body. If she could push all the energy out of her and into the floor she would. Her soles grounding the electric current flowing through her, unapologetic and lightning hot. Monsoon would stand there in front of the three men who have played such a large roll in her life, back straight and eyes forward like the Navy trained her to do, if only she could coral that fucking energy and send it straight through the floor.

Monsoon bounces instead.

If she had the time, she could have prevented the look that crosses Cyclone's face. That look of you're not good enough for my kid that is so evident on his features. She knows that Jake saw it, clear as day from the way he almost winces. Everyone in that room knows the reputation that Hangman wears like a neon sign. The "voted biggest player" social life with the stellar callsign, the pilot known for leaving his wingman hanging, acting alone- selfish.

So much for putting off telling Cyclone; so much for easing him into the news.

Bradley is watching the whole exchange from his seat with his eyebrows raised, like a fucking soap opera but the whole spectacle's happening in real time. He lets his eyes shift from person to person, taking it all in. Monsoon looks hopeful, though she is waiting with baited breath for her Pops to blow a fucking gasket. Jake, on the other hand, looks absolutely cool. Though he is the reason for the interruption, and for the impromptu introduction, he is impossibly collected. Then, Bradley's eyes shift to Cyclone, who has backed up a few steps. He keeps looking between Monsoon and Hangman, like he is playing some sort of invisible game of connect the dots.

Hangman and his fucking reputation are courting his daughter, and Cyclone really isn't thrilled about the news.

Though Bradley isn't exactly thrilled to see Hangman here either, he's taking the whole thing in stride, as opposed to Cyclone, but the younger man can't exactly blame him. If it were Bradley getting this major bomb dropped on him, he wouldn't be sitting pretty, either. Bradley is bringing his glass up to his lips, his eyes still flashing between the trio.

"Monsoon-" Cyclone starts, but the sound of coughing interrupts. Bradley is coughing, choking on his water. He attempts to wave a hand, letting everyone know he's okay, but in reality, he's far from it.

Monsoon. The woman he left asleep in her bunk five years ago stands next to him now, and not only that, they fucking grew up together, at least for a little while. And she remembers his Dad, and she's Maverick's kid. And fuck, she's dating Hangman!

Things are moving just a bit too fast, and Bradley can't quite catch his breath between coughing fits.

The glass is quickly set back onto the kitchen table, but is sent over the edge as Bradley reaches for a napkin. The glass falls in faux slow motion, the liquid flowing from the cup as it hits the hardwood, shattering like a pinprick galaxy upon the floor. Bradley, still coughing, searches the new formation of cosmos on the floor for the answer to all the mixed up bullshit he has found himself in.

"Rooster?" Monsoon pats him harshly on the back, right between his shoulder blades. Then, she is rubbing his back, her hand full of warmth through the thin fabric of his shirt. His skin burns under her touch as he struggles to return his breathing to normal. There's still a knot in the back of his throat made of unsaid words and new revelations that he can't seem to swallow down.

"Rooster, are you okay?"

Hangman and Cyclone are quick to circle around the table, Hangman taking a knee next to Monsoon, his hand quickly finding her lower back. Cyclone is on the other side of Bradley, the glass crunching under his expensive leather loafers. Bradley is red from all the coughing, but an embarrassed blush still floods his skin from all the attention.

"Mons?" The nickname comes out all scratchy as Rooster wipes a newly formed tears from his eyes. The concerned expression morphs to hold a bit of shock before settling on some sort of mix of frustration and downright sadness. Monsoon tries to school her expression but her eyes still swim with emotion as they are locked with Bradley's.

"Yeah, Roos," Monsoon shoots his nickname right back, a confirmation that all but shakes the world around Bradley. She brings a tender hand up to squeeze his shoulder before pulling back, subconsciously leaning closer to Hangman, into the warmth of his hand on her back. She finds safety in her boyfriend's touch, the warmth of his skin pooling against her through the fabric of her dress.

The lack of contact makes Rooster feel cold, but the feeling is short lived as Cyclone is grasping at his other shoulder. A swivel of his head and Bradley is met with the furrowed brows of the Admiral.

"Are you okay, Mr. Bradshaw?"

"Yes, sir," Bradley responds, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "I'm so sorry about the glass, please, let me clean it up,"

As Rooster stands, he is pushed back down gently by Cyclone, his hand still on the younger man's shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it, please," And so Bradley is sitting again, in the center of the standing trio, feeling completely out of place. "As for the two of you, take a seat, we have some things to discuss,"

The sound of chairs being pulled out against the hard wood floor is accompanied by the intense ringing of the doorbell once again. The group look from person to person, once again looking for any clue as to who could be at the front door this time. Cyclone is padding over to the door, the crunching of glass less evident the further away her gets.

Bradley attempts to clear the lump in his throat, now without the luxury of his glass of water. Monsoon takes her untouched glass and slides it closer to Bradley, a barely there smile on her face. Her expression holds more sympathy than anything. Bradley takes the glass with both hands, a little too careful as he brings it up to his lips.

"Let me get you a plate, okay?" Monsoon speaks to Hangman, her smile clearly wider, brighter, more full of life when it's directed his way. "Pops will give me so much grief if he comes back and that spot isn't set,"

So, Monsoon excuses herself from the table, leaving the men sitting in apprehensive silence.

With a strong tug from Cyclone, door swings open and there is no time for a 'hello' as the man on the other side is pushing in, a wild look in his eye, a vein on his forehead bulging with frustration.

"We need to talk Simpson," The tone holds misplaced authority. Beau runs cold at the sight of Pete "Maverick" fucking Michell standing in his entryway, looking pissed off enough to catch a charge.

"That's Admiral Simpson to you Captain," Cyclone's teeth are grit so hard they might crack under the pressure of his jaw. "You cannot be here right now,"

The raised hand does nothing to stop Maverick from pushing further into the house. There's a folder in his hand, wrinkling under the closing of his fist. Sweat clings to the Admiral's brow, a vision of the crown of thorns, droplets running down the side of his face. It might as well have been blood from the way his stomach twists as Maverick steps closer to him, pushing the paperwork, right against the center of his chest.

"Do you know who got recruited for this mission, huh?" The words are dripping with venom, "Do you realize who you've chosen for this fucking death wish of a goddamn mission?"

Captain Michell's tone is all accusatory and full fury. He's pushing into Cyclone's chest harder, his knuckles white under the pressure. Cyclone grabs at the older man's wrist, his own knuckles paling as he squeezes.

"Captain, I will not repeat myself, you cannot be here,"

"Who is it, Pops?" Monsoon is calling from around the corner, her voice full of curiosity. Cyclone isn't a praying man, especially after what happened with June and their sweet baby boy, but now Cyclone is praying to every god, every deity that crosses his mind, even those who's names he cannot recall, that his daughter will not walk around the corner to see Pete Mitchell standing in his entry way.

"Nobody, kid, I'll be there in just a moment," He calls before turning his attention back to the man in front of him. He tightens his grip on Pete's wrist before he's wrenching it away from his chest. He pushes it back into Pete's own chest, leaning in close, "My daughter is not to see you here, leave. Now."

One might think Maverick would get the hint, since he pulls his hand from Cyclones grip. But then, Maverick is throwing open the file, pointing at the first page's photo. There is so much frustration in the action, it bounces between the two men like they're sounding boards, building and building.

"See this? Jake "Hangman" Seresin? You really want to send somebody in the sky who has a pension for leaving their wingman? You want to send someone into the air with a guy like him when the mission is already guaranteeing a loss of life?"

That catches the attention of the trio in the other room. All motion stills as they strain to hear more.

Wide mouthed, pointed tongue, Maverick is yelling without a care in the world. It doesn't matter who hears as long as Cyclone is hearing it too.

"And how about this," The paper tears as Maverick turns the page, "Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. You know about his father. You damn well know about Goose and you want to send his son to an early grave too?"

Jaws tick, fists tighten. Cyclone breathes deeply, thinking- choosing his words carefully as the older man continues to scream. It's not beautiful or noble like books would describe. There is no gift from God, no blessing, no one anointed with the ability to see into the future, to see just how this is going to play out. Instead, it's just words exchanged between mortal men, both too damn stubborn to back down with knives to each other's throats.

"And check out these two," Maverick is laughing now, leaning in closer to Cyclone, his breathe reeking of whiskey. Cyclone can see the way Maverick's eyes are bloodshot and weepy as he pushes him back. Sweat coats his skin leaving him clammy to the touch.

"Natasha "Phoenix" Trace and Robert "Bob" Floyd," Another strangled laugh escapes Captain Mitchell, "You really think this scrawny kid and a woman are up to the task at hand? Really? I can think of at least five better pilots and Wizzos who are better qualified than these two. And look! She's the pilot! Hell, I don't even know how they made it through Top Gun the first time around! The fucking Navy is getting soft."

"It's time for you to go, Captain Mitchell. Sober up. We will discuss this on Monday," Cyclone puts a hand to the older man's shoulder, attempting to usher him out without too much force. Cyclone can't risk Maverick being in his house any longer. He has already been gone too long and his guests are likely getting curious. "Time to go, Pete,"

"But, Cyclone, you haven't even heard the best part," Maverick can barely get the words out through drunken laughter. He's turning the page with clumsy fingers, the paper tearing under his touch.

The trio, Rooster, Monsoon, and Hangman round the corner as Cyclone is attempting to usher Maverick out the front door. They watch as the Maverick stumbles out of Cyclone's grip and further into the house.

"Pops?" Monsoon speaks as the strange man hits the floor, laughing as he does. The file has fallen open, scattering pictures of the newest Top Gun brain child called The Dagger Squad. They sit scattered all over the entry way like freshly fallen snow. Her eyes go to the paper that falls near her feet.

"Well if it isn't the prodigal child," Maverick speaks, pushing himself further off the floor. "How many strings did you have to pull to get your own daughter onto the squad? Are you trying to send this kid to an early grave like the last one?"

The three Daggers stand speechless. Monsoon is quickly folded under Hangman's arm, her face pressed into his chest. Rooster stands just off to the side of them, his eyes flashing to Monsoon.

The arguing doesn't stop.

"Shut your mouth," Cyclone spits, "You don't know a goddamn thing,"

Maverick stumbles to his feet, standing up at straight as possible to get into Cyclone's face, just to taunt the younger man.

"See, Admiral, that's not true, now is it? You and I both know that she isn't actually yours and this would be an easy way to get rid of her, right? Send her back to-"

His words are met with a swift punch to the face, the cartilage of his nose crunching under Cyclone's knuckles. The punch feels good, like it had been coming for a long, long time. Like it had been building within Beau Simpson for years, every single time Maverick missed out on a celebration of the amazing life Monsoon is leading. For every birthday, every graduation, every reenlistment and promotion ceremony, Maverick missed it all, and the rage built inside Cyclone. Now, it finally came out, popped like a Champaign cork, blood instead of the fizzy alcohol dotting itself over Cyclone's entryway.

A warm hand slips into Monsoon's; Bradley stepped closer, clutching onto her. He recognized Pete Mitchell the moment he got a clear view, both his anger and anxiety flaring. Bradley squeezed her hand once, nice and strong, before dropping it once more, stepping in front of her and Hangman.

"Captain Mitchell," Bradley begins, his voice firm, full of hurt.

The words make Monsoon's head spin. She leans away from her boyfriend's chest to get a better look at the bloody faced man and it sends a chill down her spine. Her Dad who she hasn't seen in years is now standing in a room full of people who can't fucking stand his existence. It's a fucking miracle that all he has is a bloody nose.

"Bradley," Pete spits a little bit of blood as he speaks, looking up at the younger man. He reaches a hand out, but it's dodged. "It's good to see you, son,"

"I'm not your son. It's time for you to go," Bradley is ready to grab Pete Mitchell by the collar and haul him out of the house. He's ready to throw him onto the lawn and leave him there to spit blood and sober up enough until he can walk himself home. Bradley has his own selfish reasons, his own grudge against the Captain, and now would be as good a time as any to feed into that frustration that he's been stewing in for years.

"I'm calling Admiral Kazansky," Cyclone declares to the room, then he's spinning on his heel the moment Bradley takes a step closer, clearly putting himself between Maverick and Monsoon.

The Admiral is ordering Hangman to move, to take his daughter anywhere else so that she doesn't have to see any more of the disaster that the night has turned out to be. He doesn't want her to see him throw Maverick out- hell, he didn't want her to see him punch the older man, but there's no going back in time.

As much as Cyclone wishes he could have protected her from this, he couldn't. One can't stop a speeding bullet, as they say, and the shot had already been fired the moment he pulled open the front door. And as much as he doesn't want to, Cyclone has to trust Hangman with his daughter, he just has to, now.

So, Hangman is all but carrying Monsoon away as she fights to stay put. She misses the order from her Pops, her blood thrumming too loudly through her ears. Hangman takes her through the house, dodging the pile of glass still glittering on the hardwood in the kitchen, hauling her out the backdoor and right to his truck. Monsoon flights the whole time, though it's unclear as to her reason to want to say behind.

The pair are pulling away from the house as Bradley and Beau are hauling Maverick out to the front lawn, his nose still pouring blood.

Jake drives in the direction of his apartment, holding onto her hand the whole time. He squeezes it reassuringly though there isn't much he can assure her of at the moment. Neither of them know what's going to come of Maverick, or of Cyclone's heated action against him. They don't know if Bradley is going to get caught in the crossfire, or if they are going to get called into the MP's office sometime in the middle of the night.

There is no clear answer, so, Hangman squeezes her hand and drives.

And drives.

As far away as he can get from that house, that situation, the feeling in his chest spurred on by the broken look in Monsoon's eyes.

He drives until the sun crests over the horizon. Pulling off onto the side of the highway, Hangman kills the headlights, the world around them just beginning to come to life. That's when the tears come, falling fast and hard from the pools of Monsoon's eyes. Hangman just holds her there, inside of the truck.

The world around them awakens as Monsoon's falls apart, crumbling like unquenched Earth between her fingers. Maybe that's what the whole situation is, after all, how many times have the great authors related relationships to gardens, to plants, to life. Without nurture, without care and tending, the soil dries out, the plants die. The whole garden becoming a wasteland for the decaying plant matter; the soil turning to clay as the days roll on.

But isn't decay an unescapable fact of life?

Miramar, California. TOP GUN. Two weeks after the organization of the Dagger Squad.

Hangman had completely expected to pretend like the whole fight at the Admiral's house didn't happen when he met up with the other recruits at the bar, save for Monsoon. He took a little too much joy ordering drinks for the team on Maverick's tab- the older man not seeming to remember him from the incident, even after Hangman sent him a wink and a "thanks, Pops,".

When Bradley strutted in like the world was full of golden promise, Hangman took it upon himself to act like it was the first time they had seen each other in years. Bradshaw was quick to get the memo: last week didn't happen.

There's no surprise that Maverick got thrown out of the Hard Deck that night, either. Hangman sure as hell wasn't expecting to be the one to throw Maverick out of the bar, but that part gave him a sense of pride that he can't quite put words to.

The feeling bloomed in his chest as he watched Maverick hit the sand. A wide smile spread across his face as he yelled for him to "come back anytime," if that meant getting more free alcohol and the chance to throw him out again. Then, as Hangman closed the doors behind him while Rooster began one hell of a rendition of "Great Balls of Fire", everything felt like it was going to be okay.

Oh boy, how wrong he was.

Tensions are high now, Hangman and Rooster's rivalry is back and stronger than ever. They have been at each other's throats since that night at the Hard Deck, though the reason wasn't the mission or the usual dick measuring contest, even if the other recruits would say that it is.

They have been battling it out over a woman. Monsoon, specifically. The team doesn't know about her involvement with Hangman, and the pair try and keep it that way. So, she sits in the back of the classroom, right behind Yale and does her best to pay attention. The mission seems more impossible by the minute, the deadline has been moved up, and nobody has been successful.

Rooster and Maverick argue about the plane vs the pilot and how he had been the only one to make it to the target, though it was a minute late.

Then, Hangman opens his fucking mouth, living up to that reputation of his. "It's no time to be thinking about the past,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rooster's expression is unreadable, though his brows twitch.

"I can't be the only one that knows Maverick flew with his old man!" Hangman continues through Maverick's pleas, "Or that he was the one flying when-"

Rooster is out of his seat in a matter of seconds, launching himself at his fellow Lieutenant. Hangman took it too far this time. Rooster gets one good push in before the rest of the squad are separating the two hot headed men from each other, everyone yelling for the fighting to stop.

Everyone but Monsoon, who sits in the back staring at the fight in front of her and can't seem to make herself move.

"You son of a bitch!"

"Hey, hey, I'm cool, I'm cool," Hangman reassures, pulling out of the arms of his teammates.

"He's not cut out for this mission, you know it... You know I'm right." He gets up into Bradley's face, a fucking smirk on his lips. The others are still holding Bradley back as he calms down, but it's that fucking smirk that spurs him on.

Bob's hands slip from Rooster's shoulders as he gets into Hangman's face. "You think you can talk shit about my family when it's your girl that's got the most fucked up situation of all," Bradley keeps his eyes trained on Hangman, but the blonde's eyes tick to the side, in the direction of Monsoon, who is still in her seat. It's Bob who notices the way Hangman's eyes shift, and he's the first person to look in Monsoon's direction. Then, Bob's nudging Phoenix.

They watch as Monsoon tenses in her seat, her jaw ticking. Her hands grip the arms of her chair, knuckles white. Then, Bob and Phoenix turn their attention back to the men as the screaming match continues.

"I'm not the one who broke up with her on a goddamn post-it note, Rooster," Hangman points out with a raise of his brows, that stupid little smirk still evident on his lips. Rooster is bringing his hands up to his temples, his expression scrunched.

"You son of a bitch," Rooster is cursing at him through grit teeth, his voice low.

The crowd of Aviators are still gathered around the two men watching them fight, Maverick's eyes flicking between them as words are exchanged. His mind flashes back to two weeks ago, when he broke down the Admiral's door and saw them standing there with Cyclone. He suddenly flashes his eyes back to Monsoon, only to be met with her piercing glare.

"What? Was taking her father for yourself not good enough for you? Did you have to break her heart too?" Hangman questions, watching as Bradley's face contorts, "You're just pissed because not only could you not keep your shit Rio of a father around, you couldn't keep the girl, either,"

"That's enough!" Monsoon shouts, her eyes finally leaving Maverick. The Daggers' eyes are locked on Monsoon at the back of the makeshift classroom, anger evident on her features. Then, with her hands firmly planted on the table in front of her, she is pushing up from her seat.

"Seresin," Monsoon begins, turning her eyes to him, "First, you will not speak about my uncle that way. Goose was a good man and a damn good Rio. Uncle Nicky would have moved the fucking Earth for Bradley, or for Maverick, or for me and my Mama, don't you dare think anything different."

Monsoon is moving closer to the group now, taking each step slowly, methodical as her words. There is a large, yellow envelope tucked under her arm as she approaches. She had been sitting with that envelope since their first class, no one having even the slightest idea what's tucked inside.

"Secondly, Rooster, my relationship with Jake is not your business, not now, not ever. What we had was over the moment you wrote that post-it and walked out the door. You didn't even remember the fact that we grew up together, for fucks sake. I get it, I was your little deployment fling, and that's all. Now, you get to live with the fact that's all I'll ever be. Hangman put you in your place, now say in it."

The crowd is too stunned to speak, but there is a rumble of laughter that escapes Maverick. He doesn't even try to hide it, thinking the tension in the air would be enough to cover it. But then, Monsoon is turning her pointed gaze to him.

"Finally, Captain Mitchell," There is a sick little smirk on her lips as she says his name, "I wouldn't be laughing if I were you. After all, Bradley had to get his pension for forgetting women from somebody."

Monsoon is standing toe to toe with Maverick now, eyes locked in on his, "After all, I've been in this class for what, two weeks, and I know you have had the roster for longer than that, considering that little stunt you pulled at my Pop's house. You think it's funny to forget someone when your own flesh and blood is standing right in front of you?"

Maverick furrows his brow, head cocking to the side. Monsoon can practically see the gears turning in his head with the way his eyes move across her features. She breathes deeply a couple of times, letting his mind piece the puzzle together.

"I asked you a question, but go ahead, take your time," Monsoon leans in just a fraction further, "After all, I'm told I look more like my mother, anyway," Wide eyes from the man in front of her stir out a strangled giggle from her chest.

"Wha- bu-" Maverick flounders, his mouth opening and closing, no words forming on his lips.

"Hi, Dad," The name is said with so much venom as she pushes the envelope against his chest with enough force to make him stumble. Monsoon doesn't wait for him to recover before she is turning to walk down the aisle of the makeshift classroom, paying no attention to the stares, the eyes burning holes into the back of her head. Instead she focuses on the momentary feeling of lightness that washes over her as she leaves the hanger.

It isn't until Monsoon rounds the corner that the tears begin pricking at her eyes. She takes off running as soon as the first one hits her cheek, the only thing she can hear over the rushing of blood in her ears is the thunking of her heavy boots on the pavement.

The Daggers stand looking at Maverick. He's holding the envelope to his chest, unsure of the emotions wracking though his body. Then, with a quick hand, he's crudely tearing at the envelope. The contents pour out over the floor of the hanger, looking just like that night at Admiral Simpson's house. Maverick tries to push that thought from his mind as his eyes focus in on the papers covering the floor.

Birthday Cards. Children's birthday cards.

The same ones he wrote to her for her first ten birthdays. He can't even get himself to bend down to pick one up, his neck aching from the way he stares down at them. He notices the little circles of wrinkled paper from long dried tears and his heart fucking breaks.

The image of Monsoon at four, at seven, that he can see clearly in his mind, but there's a gap missing. Still, Maverick imagines her sitting and rereading the cards at seventeen, at twenty-two, crying over them and the father she could barely remember. Tears prick at Mavericks eyes and he lets them, making no attempt to wipe them away.

It doesn't take long for the Daggers to figure out that the pile of cards is noticeably small, no more than nine or ten cards on the ground, though no one is near brave enough to say anything.

Moments like this remind Maverick he's still just a mere man. No matter how many records he breaks, aircrafts he tests, or brushes with death he encounters, Maverick is nothing more than a man with a skill set. He has flaws. He makes mistakes.

That fact is almost too much for him to take.

The memory of Goose flashes through his mind, the moments leading up to the failed ejection birth the feeling of ocean water weighing down his flight suit, soaking into the padding of his helmet as the water washes over them. So much blood where there should be none. And then Maverick is thinking about cleaning the scraped knees of his daughter, the blood bubbling up through the road rash. The tears, then, were hers as she begged, "Daddy, not the ouch-y cleaner, I don't like it,". But Maverick cleaned her wounds with the alcohol anyway, only to end up holding her against his chest in the same way he would hold Goose in less than a year.

Maverick's mind is a patchwork quilt of shit memories; stuck reliving them all, fragment by fragment.

"Class dismissed," Maverick manages, his eyes still glued to the floor. The sounds of fourteen pairs of boots, first loud then quieter as they go, leave the hanger, leaving him standing there, looking at the past he threw away illustrated simply in faded and forgotten birthday cards.

The hands of the clock circle once before Maverick moves. He walks right over the pile, his boots leaving angry, dark tread marks across the colorful paper. He doesn't look back once, not at the pile of cards, not at the hanger, not at the base.

He drives straight for the Hard Deck. It's the only thing he can think to do, and after all, maybe Penny has some sort of advice. She's the only person he actually knows with a kid- a daughter.

Maverick only makes it half way before he has to pull over. Quickly, he throws himself off his bike, his knees hitting the dirt as he empties the contents of his stomach. As a pilot, he should have a stronger stomach than this, but a choice he made almost eighteen years ago is coming back to haunt him.

He can still see Monsoon's eyes in the forefront of his mind. They haven't changed a bit from when she was a kid, Maverick realizes, as he's sat back on his haunches trying not to puke again. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing at the feeling of his swirling stomach.

Maybe he should have stuck around, or at least circled back when he wasn't on deployment. After all, Maria left messages on his machine for almost two years after he up and left. It started with her begging to call which slowly turned into begging him to at least send a fucking birthday card. So he did.

Then, she stopped calling, and he stopped writing. Monsoon grew up.

It would be so easy to blame Maria. When she stopped calling, he stopped remembering. Between deployments and missions, flight tests and ceremonies, Maverick could pretend that it all got lost in the shuffle. But then, he remembers Maria and the way she always seemed to flawlessly manage her Naval carrier with raising their daughter, how she could juggle it all without his help when he was deployed and it was all okay. At least that's what he told himself.

So, he thought if she could do it alone already, no harm could come from putting in for extra duty. That turned into extra deployments, more time away from home. He knew it was all a lie, but he had to tell himself something to justify it.

It did get easier after a while, as his daughter slowly slipped to the back of his mind. It wasn't until one day, six years after he left that the realization hit him. Maverick hadn't thought of his daughter in months. He should have felt more guilty; he drank himself sick at the thought.

Two years later Maverick didn't even realize he missed her eighteenth birthday.

Or her twenty-first.

Over the years he convinced himself he did the right thing. That part of his past became a distant memory that he told himself he didn't miss. Maverick would be lying to himself if he still believed that to be true in this moment, sat on the side of the road after having been faced with the consequences of his long forgotten actions.

Maverick kept one constant reminder playing on repeat in his mind all those years, You can't be a bad father if you aren't there to be one at all.

And for the first time since he walked out, Maverick thinks he may have been wrong.

He sits on the side of the road until the sun sets, stewing in his misery. When he manages to pull himself back up onto his bike, he heads for home, knowing that if Penny knew the whole story he would be on the outs with her, too. And so, he drives slowly, back to an empty house, wishing for the first time in years that it wouldn't be empty when he got there.

---

When Monsoon finally reached Cyclone's office, eight blocks from the hanger, she almost collapsed in the entryway of the building. But, she pushed through the crowd, ignoring the calls of his assistant who insisted that Cyclone could not be interrupted while he was in a meeting. Monsoon couldn't find it in herself to care.

When she pushes the door to his office open, she is met with three pairs of eyes. Iceman, Warlock, and Cyclone's eyes meet her frame. She is breathing heavy from the mix of running and sobbing, though it's unclear as to which is causing the redness in her cheeks.

"Excuse me, recruit, but you can't-" Warlock starts, closing the file sitting in his lap. There is an edge to his tone, not taking too kindly to being interrupted.

"Hey, kid, what's wrong?" Cyclone is cutting off Warlock without a second thought. The moment he moves out from behind his desk, Monsoon is throwing herself into his arms, her barely contained tears now overflowing. Without a second thought, Cyclone is folding her into his arms, doing his best to hold her shaking form.

"I'm sorry, sir, I tried to stop her," Cyclone's assistant huffs, running a hand through his hair. Cyclone waves the younger man off, the door closing behind him with a click. Then, Cyclone is wrapping his daughter tighter in his arms, one hand coming up to rub between her shoulders while the other is wrapped securely around her waist.

"I'm sorry, gentleman, but the meeting will have to be continued another time," Cyclone speaks, his tone clear, unwavering. Warlock shakes his head but gets up to leave anyway. Iceman follows after him, nodding a sort of good luck to his fellow Admiral before closing the door behind him.

"Tell me what's wrong, kid," Cyclone is pulling back, his hands squeezing at her shoulders. Monsoon is rubbing at her cheeks, smearing her tears over the expanse of her face. It's the same ugly cry she had when they first met, and the connection make's Cyclone's heart twist.

"I-" She starts, sentence interrupted by a hiccupping gasp, "Everything is falling apart,"

Monsoon tries to wipe at her face again with her hands, but Cyclone plunges a hand into his pocket only to offer her a green pocket hanky a second later. She takes it with unsteady fingers, her heart still thrumming a mile a minute.

"Hangman and Rooster got in a fight in class. Jake said a shitty thing about my uncle Nicky, Goose, you know?"

"Bradley shoved Jake, which isn't exactly a surprise, but then he told everyone that my family situation is all kinds of fucked up, which it is, but it's nobody else's business. God, Pops, I know now that I made a mistake when I started seeing Rooster while we were on deployment together, but God, that was five years ago! It's in the past!"

Cyclone nods at her, listening intently while trying to keep calm. So much new information is being thrown at him with each sentence that leaves her lips and it makes him angry.

"Worst of all, though," Monsoon wipes at her nose with the hanky, "Maverick knows,"

"He knows?"

"I told him," She confirms with a whimper and a nod, not daring to meet Cyclone's eyes. If she managed to meet them, she would have been met with nothing but rage boiling behind his irises, red hot flames behind the dark brown of his eyes.

"I had to, everything was already coming out anyway," She laments.

"What did he have to say for himself?" The question is asked through grit teeth as he pulls her body tighter against his, a move meant to feel protective but does nothing to quell the flames burning Cyclone from the inside out. All Monsoon can do is shake her head "no" as she sobs against the denseness of his chest.

"I'm gonna kill him" is all Cyclone can think as he rests his chin against her hair. His jaw ticks as the flaming feeling overtakes his body. If he could, he would strip Maverick of every single one of his achievements, his medals, his rank. He would cut the older man down so far that he was nothing more than a civilian with a dishonorable discharge.

But he can't.

So instead, he holds his daughter as she cries. He lets her tears soak the tan fabric of his uniform top, the buttons scraping against her skin. He rubs her back and whispers into her hair, promises that everything will be okay.

---

Somewhere in the Pacific. The Uranium Mission. Three weeks after the organization of the Dagger Squad.

Moments after the Uranium mission is completed, the team piled on the aircraft carrier, all grateful to be alive. Monsoon and Hangman got sent up to shoot down the enemy aircraft, saving Maverick and Rooster. The whole thing left nothing but swirls of confusion and gratitude in Monsoon's heart.

On one hand, she is so thankful that everyone made it back home. There will be no funerals, no folded flags and no Taps to be played. Instead there will be celebrations, beer and cheering and one too many speeches for a job well done. The whole thing should be liberating as their impending doom has been starved off for the time being, however there is still a feeling of anxiety sitting heaving in her chest.

Now, Monsoon is stuck watching the pair climb out of the museum piece that they managed to land on the carrier. The wind is whipping past them as she watches the team embrace the two men. Her strangled feelings clog her chest as she makes her way into the fray, first approaching Bradley.

"Glad to have you back on the ground," Monsoon shouts over the crowd.

"It's good to be back, even if it's not quite the ground," Bradley attempts to joke, "But seriously, we owe everything to you and Hangman,"

"Nobody left behind," Monsoon holds her hand out to Bradley, a gesture of good will.

"Nobody left behind," Rooster echoes, taking her hand in his own.

As they shake hands, a sort of understanding forms between them. They share a look, one that reads no hard feelings and Bradley almost tears up. Then, they are pulling back from each other, sharing one last smile.

Monsoon watches Bradley disappear into the crowd, his tall frame quickly swallowed up by the sea of uniforms. She catches him shake hands with Hangman a moment later, the scene bringing a small smile to her lips.

Then, Maverick catches her eye, standing a few yards away. There are tears shining in his eyes, but he makes no effort to move forward. They share eye contact for a moment as people move between them. Monsoon offers him a half smile, her brows lifted just slightly. Before Maverick can return it, she nods at him. He nods back, then it's his turn to watch her disappear into the crowd.

It's not quite an understanding, but maybe it's a truce.

At the risk of breaking her own heart, Monsoon chances a look over her shoulder. She watches as Maverick pulls Bradley into a hug, or maybe it's the other way around, it's hard to tell with the swarming of bodies. Either way, the pair wear bright smiles as they embrace and Monsoon doesn't even try to fight off the tears that make their way to her eyes. They aren't tears of anger, no, they are tears of gratitude. Grateful that they all get to live another day, grateful that Maverick and Bradley are giving each other a second chance, and grateful that there isn't a looming cloud hanging over her head anymore.

She no longer has to wonder about her father, because now she knows he's exactly where he is supposed to be, and both of their lives are better for it. Instead, she has Cyclone, the best father she could have ever asked for, and that is more than enough.

Cyclone breaks through the crowd, pulling his daughter into his arms, more than thankful for her safe return. He shouts at her, over the crowd, about how well she did and how happy he is that she made it back. The pair hold each other tight for another few moments, neither ready to let go.

Maverick takes one more look at Monsoon, who's now folded into Cyclone's arms. It's an unfamiliar sight but not an unwelcomed one, for Maverick. One thing's for sure, she is exactly like her Pops- disciplined and talented in the cockpit of a jet. Even more, though, beyond being a good aviator, she is a good person and that's something that Maverick can't regret.

---

Miramar, California. TOP GUN. One year after the completion of the Uranium Mission and the organization of the Dagger Squad.

A year later, Cyclone and Monsoon find themselves sitting in The Flight Line Bar, her hand thrust out in front of her, ring glittering under the amber lights.

"You're going to give me away at my wedding, right?" There is a sort of apprehension to her voice as she sips on her beer.

"It would be my honor, kid," Cyclone slings an arm around her shoulders, pulling her sideways into him. He holds her there for a second before letting her sit back upright, a large smile on her lips.

"Y/N Seresin has a good ring to it," Cyclone adds, bringing his beer up to his lips.

"About that," Monsoon starts, causing the Admiral to set his beer down, "Jake and I had a conversation, and we thought that having two Aviators in the same squad with the same last name would get confusing, so it's going to be Y/N Simpson, if that's okay with you,"

The Admiral's eyes flood with tears before he can say a single word. They quickly spill down his cheeks and all he can do is look at his daughter, tears of her own overtaking her eyes.

"I take that as a "yes"?" Monsoon chuckles, wiping her eyes with a shitty bar napkin.

"Of course it's a yes, kid," Cyclone grabs her hand, holding it on top of the bar.

The pair sit, hand in hand , tears still wet on their faces and all Cyclone can think about is how fucking lucky he got, how blessed his life is. He finally has a daughter who is happy and in love, a daughter that he will get to walk down the aisle on the most important day of her life.

When he chances a glance over to her, Cyclone can see the frizz of her hair highlighted by the neon sign buzzing behind her, her cheeks bright red. For a moment, he can see June in the roundness of her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes. Cyclone thinks back to all those years ago, when he and Monsoon first met sitting in this same bar, but he doesn't entertain the memory very long, after all, he has so much to look forward to. So instead, he squeezed her hand.

"I love you, kid," Beau tells her earnestly, smiling though a few stray tears.

"I love you too, Pops," Monsoon returns, leaning her head on his shoulder, "Now and always,"

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hangmansgbaby · 7 months

Text

Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince

Meredith ‘Meri’ Mitchell is America’s sweetheart with her dad, Pete Mitchell, as the current president of the United States. Meri is constantly sent around to the biggest parties, banquets, and gatherings that her father cannot attend but her least favorite of all, is anything that includes the prince of England. His Royal Highness, Prince Jake is next in line for the crown so he is always present at every major event. Jake thoroughly enjoys his engagements. Show up, snap a few pictures, have a good time, take a cute girl to a nearby hotel, leave before dawn, and repeat the cycle the next time. For the last three years, Meri and Jake have merely tolerated each other in passing but with her father’s reelection campaign and his impending coronation just a year away, Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince are about to spend a lot more time together, especially after they make a big scene at a royal wedding.

*my entire blog is 18+. Not just for smut but delicate topics. Read at your own will MINORS DO NOT INTERACT*

Playlist | Taglist

1 : It's a Cruel Summer

2 : You Need to Calm Down

3 : Tolerate It

4 : Enchanted to Meet You

5 : The Last Great American Dynasty

6 : You Belong With Me

7 : So It Goes…

8 : Are You Ready For It?

9 : I’d Marry You With Paper Rings

10 : I Feel Like My Castles Crumbling

11 : Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

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callsign-dexter · 8 months

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Daddy Don't Go

Summary: During a routine training exercise, Bradley's jet malfunctions. He's in critical condition. How will his 4-year-old duaghter take it?

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Bradley Bradshaw, Jake Seresin x Duaghter!Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, inaccurate medical talk, jet crash, ejection, fluff?

Masterlist

Our Little Girl

A/N: Little Y/N is 4 years old

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It was supposed to be a routine training exercise with new Top Gun students. Nobody was supposed to get hurt. Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw-Seresin was not supposed to be in the hospital in a medically induced coma, to let the swelling on his brain go down with a tube down his throat, with his 4-year-old, Y/N Carole Seresin-Bradshaw clinging to him and refusing to leave. How did the Seresin-Bradshaw family wind up here? Well, it started with the pre-flight checks and everything looked fine and checked out but it was something electronical that somehow passed all the mechanical checks.

7 a.m. rolled around on the cloudy Friday morning. Jake was the first one to wake up and start getting ready and while he was in the bathroom having just come out of the shower he heard Bradley get up. They both decided from the beginning to let their daughter sleep until they got fully ready and then got her up and ready for school. Bradley walked into the conjoined bathroom and greeted Jake with a kiss as he brushed his teeth. Neither were a morning person so they didn't talk. Bradley wordlessly stripped his clothing off and got into the shower. 7:30 a.m. rolled around and it was time to get Y/N up since Jake was already done and dressed in his khaki uniform.

Jake silently walked to his daughter’s room and opened the cracked door. She was sound asleep spread in a starfish pattern in the middle of the bed, as Jake swears, just like Bradley. It brought a smile to his face. He walked in and got her clothes ready to go without waking her which wasn't a problem since she was a heavy sleeper, as Bradley swears, just like Jake.

Jake walked over to her bed and bent down to where he was face level with her. He brought a hand up and started to stroke her hair "Sweets, time to get up." He said in a soft tone but she just rolled over to where her face was near his. He chuckled to himself. "Come on. Don't you want to go see your friends at school?" He asked softly. Y/n scrunched her nose up and groaned but she didn't wake up fully but Jake knew he was getting there "Sweets, let's get up. You have to go to school." He said and she cracked her eyes open to look at him and he smiled.

"Papa?" She asked and started to sit up.

"It's me, Sweets. You ready to go brush your teeth?" He asked and even though she didn't want to, she did it anyway. She made grabby hands to be picked up and Jake did. He walked her to her conjoined bathroom and sat her on the counter she was still tired he got her toothbrush put toothpaste on it and turned on the water. Y/N lazily brushed her teeth but she got it done and they were clean. Jake was tackling her curly dirty blonde hair after she was done when Bradley walked in. He saw him through the mirror. "I blame you for her curly hair." He playfully glared at his husband and Bradley just laughed. This caused her to look up and see him through the mirror too.

"Daddy!" She screeched out and brought out that signature Seresin mega watt smile.

"Hi, Honey." He said to her and then turned to Jake "You love our hair." He said and boy was he right. He walked over to them and pushed Jake out of the way so he could handle it, Jake knew how to handle it too but since he got her up this morning he let Bradley do it. Bradley brushed it out and then put it into a half French Braid and half ponytail, where he learned that nobody knows well except his mom.

"You are truly one talented man." Jake said while looking at the finished product. Jake knew how to do hair too from having sisters but French Braiding was his biggest downfall so he left that up to his husband. They both got her dressed together and went into the kitchen to eat something. They were Glas that her preschool was on base and they lived close by so it wasn't like they needed to rush or anything. They loaded up in Jake's truck and headed to base.

When they left the house at 7:45 a.m. when they got to the base preschool it was 7:50 a.m., right on time. Bradley was the one to get her out of the truck when Jake parked and they both walked her into the classroom and said their goodbyes and boy did the moms swoon over two Navy aviators.

"Sweets, we'll be back at the end of the day to get you. Ok?" Jake said bending down to her level.

"Ok, Papa." Y/N replied they could remember when they first dropped her off and when Jake didn't take her that one time. Oh, Bradley was pissed while everyone thought it was funny.

"We love you, Honey." Bradley said and hugged her and she hugged back and then Jake hugged her too.

"Love you." She said back to them and they got up and left the building. They headed to work. They arrived and they both walked into the building ready to start teaching.

Today they were practicing some dog fighting with the new students. Jake, Bradley, Bob, and Natasha were going up with them. Maverick, Goose, Ice, and Slider had opted to stay on the ground and in the control tower to watch. Bradley and Jake both did their pre-flight checks and everything was good to go they said they loved each other as they did every time before going up in the air, and the next thing they knew they were up in the air. Jake took over speaking.

"Good afternoon pilots. Today we will be practicing some dogfighting." Jake said through the comms and then Bradley spoke up.

"The name of the game is to shoot us down before we get you." He said and one student by the callsign of Blazer, a younger version of Hangman pretty much.

"What happens if we don't get you first?" He asked all cocky. Both Jake and Bradley were having flashbacks. They both looked at each other since they were flying by each other Hangman man held up 3 and Bradley nodded.

"You have to give us 300 push-ups with Hondo." Bradley said and Blazer and the other pilot by the callsign Fireball and their WSO Comet scoffed.

"You're on." Fireball said and the dogfighting began.

Everything was going smoothly Bradley and Jake teamed up and they shot down all the students. As they Jake and Bradley were coming back into land Bradley's jet started to malfunction. "Hangman, my jet his not acting right." Bradley said and this worried Jake enough to fly up next to him, it was only him and Bradley in the air. He got there right as soon as Bradley's engines just quit both of them all together.

"Woah. Control tower this is Rooster. My jet just lost both engines at the same time." Rooster said as he felt his jet jerk. When Goose, Ice, Slider, and Maverick heard that their hearts dropped especially Goose's. They could see the smoke in the air. Bradley was losing altitude and fast.

"Maverick to Rooster. You are going to have to eject. Hangman you are going to have to fly away from him so he can safely eject." Maverick had taken over one of the mics which they let him. Jake didn't want to leave his husband but did what he was told and Bradley did just that but instead of being the right altitude from the ground he was closer than anticipated and his chute deployed late and he hit the ground hard. He hit is hard enough to twist his ankle and hit his head on a rock which resulted in knocking him out.

"Hangman, did you see a chute?" Goose asked his son-in-law asked and Jake didn't reply at first but after a few minutes he did answer.

"Yes, I saw one but it looked like it opened too close to the ground. The plane is on fire but it looks to be intact. I can see him but he's just laying there. A medical helicopter needs to be deployed. I'm landing now and going on that helicopter." Jake said giving nobody any room to talk. Nobody was going to argue with him they were already racing down to the tarmac just a Jake landed and parked his plane. He quickly got out and met them and they ran to the helicopter only two were allowed to go nobody argued when Goose and Jake got on there.

The medical helicopter flew to the crash site and two of the paramedics jumped out along with the base physician. They assessed him and quickly got him on a backboard and carried him to the helicopter Goose and Jake were silent. The physician began talking "Looks like he had hit his head based on the crack in the rock and his helmet and sprained his ankle based on how he was laying. We'll get him to the base hospital and get him further assessed." He told Goose and Jake and they nodded to afraid to talk.

20 minutes they arrived at the hospital where Bradley was rushed into the hospital. Jake and Goose were ushered into the waiting room where they had to wait for results. Maverick, Ice, and Slider showed up at the hospital in record time. They quickly found the other two "Any word?" Maverick said and Goose shook his head.

"They rushed him away. They wouldn't tell us anything. Oh god, I need to call Carole." Goose said and rushed to do that and then it hit Jake.

"Someone needs to go and pickup Y/N." Jake said almost absentmindedly not looking at anybody really. He was so shook up and wasn't thinking right.

"I'll go and get her." Ice said since everyone was shook up. They would've asked Goose to ask Carole but she would be too torn up to do anything. Everyone looked at Ice and Jake about burst into tears, he actually hugged the man. Slider was going to go with him but opted not to since he knew he needed to do this alone and plus he is the strong one out of all of them right now.

"Thank you. Tell her what is going on please, I hate keeping her in the dark. I know it should come from me but I don't think I would be able to make it through it." Jake said and Ice hugged him back and nodded his head.

"Anytime. Of course I'll tell her." He said and they both let go of each other and Ice headed to his truck since he drove. Thankfully everyone agreed to keep a car seat in their cars incase they need to pick her up. Ice quietly drove to the preschool and walked into the front office the receptionist looked up and smiled.

"What can I do for you?" She asked and Ice smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm here to pick up Y/N Seresin-Bradshaw." He said and she nodded.

"Can I have the reason for her being picked up?" She asked him, he was getting agitated but understood it was protocol.

"Family emergency." Ice said and that is all he said and he saw her face fall.

"Of course. I'll go and get her." She said and he nodded and he stood there waiting he signed the papers that needed to be signed. After a few minutes they the receptionist walked in with the spitting image and Jake and Bradley. Ice just thinking about Bradley got him upset.

"Grandpa Ice!" Y/N shrieked out and once again Ice smiled but this time he had tears in his eyes. He bent down to her level when she was in his proximity.

"Hi, Sunshine." Ice said to him using his nickname for her. He grabbed her and hugged her tightly.

"Too tight!" She said and he let her go but picked her up. "Papa and Daddy?" she asked him and his heart broke. He started to walk out of the building. He made sure that they were at the truck before answering.

"Your Daddy had an accident and your Pops is with him at the hospital." Ice said as he started to put her into her car seat and she was silent. She was smart for her age and understood many things. "But, your Daddy is with the best doctors right now making him better." Ice said looking her right in her eyes, the eyes mixed with Jake and Bradley. She nodded her head but was silent again Ice's heart broke. He shut the door and got into the driver side he quickly sent a text to Jake and started driving to the hospital. The truck was silent neither of them wanted to speak.

When Ice and Y/N arrived at the hospital they found a parking spot and it was next to Carole's car. Ice parked and got out and worked on getting Y/N out. He worked in silence. When he got her out he held her and walked into the hospital where Jake greeted him.

"Hi, Sweets." Jake said in a broken voice. He took his daughter from Ice and she snuggled into him.

"Daddy?" Y/N asked Jake and it brought on tears from him.

"Daddy is hurt, Sweets." Jake said as they were walking to the rest. Goose immediately took her and hugged her tightly and Carole joined them. Hugging her, Bradley's flesh and blood, made them feel comfort. Jake nor Y/N made any complaint when she was taken from his arms, they knew they needed comfort. After a minute they let up and all sat down not saying a word.

Jake was thinking about losing his husband and Y/N losing a parent.

Goose and Carole was thinking about losing their son and their granddaughter losing a father.

Maverick, Ice, and Slider was thinking about what happened with Maverick when he and Goose got into their accident. Maverick was taking it the worst, it brought back bad memories.

Y/N was just silent. She didn't know what to think. She would not leave Jake's side no matter what. She just wanted her daddy.

What felt like forever, but just really 2 hrs. since Bradley was brought in, the doctor came out. "Family of Lt. Commander Bradley Bradshaw?" He said and everyone got up and walked over.

"I'm his husband and this is his daughter but we have other family members here." Jake said holding his little girl in his arms and nodding towards her. The doctor nodded.

"I'm Dr. Ford. Bradley is in a medically induced coma to let the swelling come down from his brain a CT scan confirmed that. He sprained his ankle." Dr. Ford said and everybody was relived but still worried.

"Can we see him?" Slider asked since nobody else trusted their voice and the doctor nodded.

"Yes, you can. I'll take you to him now." He said and turned and started walking and they followed. They arrived at his room number to find him hooked up to a breathing machine and IVs. Everyone started to cry.

"Daddy?" Y/N asked in a small voice but when he didn't respond to her she started to cry and reaching for him that broke everyone's heart.

"You can touch him and talk to him." Dr. Ford said and they nodded.

"Can she lay with him?" Carole asked for all of them and Dr. Ford nodded.

"Yes, since he is not in critical condition she is allowed to just watch out for the wires and IVs." Dr. Ford said and they nodded Jake gently put her next to Bradley and she cuddled into his side. "I'll leave you all alone. If you need me don't hesitate to call, a nurse will be in here to check on him." Dr. Ford told them and they all nodded to him.

"Thank you." Jake said and Dr. Ford nodded and walked out of the room. It was silent except for the heart monitor and the sound of the breathing machine. Y/N did not move an inch and she wasn't going to. Jake was sitting next to him on the side where Y/N was and started to cry the tough guy and cocky aviator act falling. Everything was running through his mind. Was this the last time Bradley would do his daughter's hair? Was this the last time Bradley would help get her ready for school? Was this the last time Y/N would see her father? He hoped the answer would be no but time would tell.

Nurses were in and out out of his room all throughout the day and night. Jake had let The Daggers know what was going on and they all replied back but Jake didn't answer them. Y/N laid right by Bradley's side and would not move not even with bribery all she would say "Me no leave daddy." and they left her alone not wanting to fight her and make her upset. It was getting late and Maverick, Slider, and Ice had to leave since they had to give a brief on what happened even though it was a Saturday. They did come in and out and brought changes of clothes for everyone. Goose and Carole would leave every now and then to go and grab things that were needed including food and snacks and drinks. Which they snacked on while they were there.

On the second day of Bradley being in a medically induced coma they wanted to run another CT scan to see if the swelling had gone down during the night. Nurse Sofie walked in and told them what was going. "Hello, I'm Nurse Sofie and this is Nurse Parker. We are here to take him down to get a CT scan." Nurse Sofie said and they smiled and nodded their head. Jake went to get Y/N, who was asleep at the time.

"Sweets?" He asked rubbing her back and she slowly woke up rubbing her eyes "They need to take Daddy for a minute." He said and got a panicked look on her face and started to shake her head.

"No." She said and Jake sighed he was going to have to force her and he hated doing that. Jake got ahold of her.

"Com'n Sweets." He said and started to pick her up and she started to fight and cry but he got her in his arms and stood back where Goose and Carole were, she started to cry harder and try to reach for him but Jake held her tight.

"Daddy don't go!" Y/N yelled and everyone's heart broke as Nurse Sofie and Nurse Parker, even there hearts broke. Y/N cried and gave up for reach for Bradley and reached buried her head into Jake who rubbed her back and shushed her and slowly fell back to sleep with tear tracks on her face and down her cheeks.

"She really is attached to him." Carole said and Jake nodded and laughed as they all took a seat and waited. "Bradley used to be like that when he was younger. He would always choose Goose over me." She said with a giggle.

"That is true. Especially when he was sick. We could never figure it out." Goose said smiling but it didn't reach his eyes. They continued to talk for a few minutes and every now and then Y/N would move but would stay asleep.

20 minutes had passed and they were bringing Bradley back. Nurse Sofie and Nurse Parker got him back in his spot and hooked him back up. Nurse Parker spoke up "Dr. Ford will be in here in a few minutes." She said and they nodded and thanked them and they walked out. Jake thought about putting Y/N back with Bradley but didn't want to wake her but knew she would be upset, so he gently got up and walked her over to him and laid her down minding the wires and IV lines she must've sensed that she was back her her daddy because she snuggled into him.

Dr. Ford, Nurse Sofie, and Nurse Parker walked in after Jake but her with Bradley and walked over to him along with Goose and Carole. Jake looked over to Y/N one last time checking to see if she was ok then turned his full attention to the him. "The swelling has gone down tremendously and we are planning to wake him up tomorrow morning. I just want his brain to rest during the night. Amnesia is a possibility but I have a good feeling that he'll be just fine." Dr. Ford said everyone sighed in relief.

"Do you want me to move her when you wake him up?" Jake asked and Dr. Ford shook his head.

"She should be ok. No sense in waking her up and she's small enough she won't be in the way." He said and Jake just nodded. "Have a good rest of your night and I'll see you in the morning." He said and they thanked him and then he left. Jake let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. He was getting his husband back and his little girl was getting her daddy back. The rest of the night they took turns keeping watch until the next morning. Jake let everyone know what was going on and that they were planning to wake him up in the morning. Goose and Carole answered for Jake after he sent it and everyone started to text back.

The third day they were going to be waking him up early 7 a.m. in the morning. Dr. Ford, Nurse Sofie, and Nurse Parker walked in with their things they needed to reverse him. Y/N was still asleep and they let her sleep considering what she had been through. They got to work in removing his breathing tube and when he started breathing on his own everyone was relieved. He also started to push Methylphenidate which reverses a medically induced coma. Once the medication was gone they took a step back "It may take a few minutes, hours, or a few days for him to wake up but him breathing on his own is a very good sign. I'll leave you guys alone but when he does wake up let me know." Dr. Ford said and they nodded.

"Will do Doc." Jake said and resumed his sitting next to his husband. Bradley was breathing on his own and that made Jake incredibly happy. He wasn't going to lose his husband and Y/N wasn't going to lose a father. They waited around for him Maverick and Ice had come back to the hospital to be there for their family.

"How is Y/N doing with all of this?" Maverick asked looking at the now awake girl since it was 10 a.m. and eating some Goldfish and drinking her apple juice. They had turned on the TV so she could watch it. She would take bathroom breaks every now and then but would be back at Bradley's side in an instant.

"She's doing ok. Hasn't left his side." Jake said. Around 5:30 p.m. Y/N had fallen asleep.

6 p.m. rolled around and Bradley started to show some signs of movement. Bradley groaned and slowly opened his eyes which caught Jake's attention and he was by his side in an instant and so was everyone else. "Hi, baby." Jake said to Bradley and he looked lazily over to Jake and smiled. He smiled at everyone else.

"Hi, babe." Bradley said back, and then he felt a weight on him and looked down and smiled, there was his sweet and sassy little girl. He would get to her in a minute he looked up to everyone else.

"Hi, guys." Bradley said to the rest. They all said their hellos back and Carole started to cry. "Mom don't cry." He said.

"They're happy tears baby." She said and they smiled at each other. Finally, he looked down to his little girl.

"How long has she been asleep?" Bradley asked and curled his arm around her. She stirred but didn't wake up.

"Since 5:30 p.m., do you want me to wake her up?" Jake asked and Bradley shook his head.

"No, I will." Bradley answered "Hey, Honey." He said and started to rub her back she stirred again and he chuckled. "It's time to wake up, Honey." He said once more and kissed her head and that woke her up. She woke and looked up.

"Daddy?" She asked and when she looked up and saw him looking at her, her face lit up "Daddy!" she yelled excitedly and hugged him and e groaned in pain.

"Easy, Sweets. Daddy is hurt remember?" Jake said and she let up but everyone was smiling.

"Yes, Papa." She replied looking at him.

"I'll go and get the nurse." Ice said and left the room but came back a minute later with Nurse Parker in tow. She checked his vitals and then paged Dr. Ford.

Dr. Ford came in and explained everything and Bradley listened carefully. He wanted to keep him in the hospital for at least two more days just to watch him and he nodded. He left the room to let the family be together. Carole, Goose, Maverick, and Slider said that they were going to go down to the cafeteria to grab coffee and food. They were so relieved they didn't have to lose a member of their family and a little girl didn't have to lose one of her fathers.

Once they were gone Jake finally was able to break down and hug and kiss his husband, of course, Y/N made a grossed-out noise as she always did but Bradley attacked her with kisses. Jake stood back and watched the scene. This is how it's supposed to be.

Jake was relieved. He couldn't wait to get his husband home and take care of him. That man was his life. He was his daughter's life too. He couldn't imagine how she would be if he was gone. Now he doesn't have to. Bradley was with them and that is all that mattered.

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jackiequick · 7 months

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Meeting your boyfriends sister | Hangman fanfic ✨

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Amber ‘Skysolo’ Kazansky

Timeline: Post-Top Gun Maverick

Summary: She didn’t think she would ever be nervous about something like meeting the family. She has done it plenty of times before but what happens you boyfriend Hangman Seresin’s sister comes to town?

Charcters mentioned: Elena "Enigma" Seresin, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado, Georgia “Peach” Wells and etc.

Top Gun Maverick AU

——

Amber Kazansky had been though a lot in her lifetime so far. From moving around as a child to different states to watching her aunt Carol die in her teens. Hell she has seen her father go through cancer and survive it.

She has seen friends break up, others get married and move on with their lives. So it was something she was fine with.

It was part of life, meeting people and trying to see if things worked. And if they did, you meet your lover’s friends. They get to meet your parents, seeing if they approve of your relationship.

But meeting her boyfriend’s sister? That was not one of them. So imagine her surprise when she founds out she’s in town for the weekend.

She. Was. Actually. Terrified!

Yeah she Amber has met a boyfriend or two’s brother and sister in the past. But a naval base boyfriend’s siblings? Never. Jake Seresin was her first boyfriend to be a pilot and a damn good one. Sadly he wasn’t good at breaking news like this.

Because he decided to break the news right before they went to sleep the night before. He said he had something to tell over dinner but forgot about it. But he remembered it right before he turned off the bathroom light and jumped into bed with her.

And he said it so casually too! Like it was the most normal thing in the world?! She knew he had siblings but she wasn’t expecting for her to come over to visit her in the next 24 hours.

Which lead her to find herself roughly tapping her French tips against her desk the next morning. Biting the tip of her nail on one hand as the other typed away furiously on her keyboard. She was filing in information for her father. His assistant, Mindy, sent a small stack of paperwork for her transfer over into spreadsheets within the next couple of days.

She was so focused on her laptop screen, having Rocket Man playing from her speakers, that she didn’t hear friend come in.

Georgia smiled chatting with Bradley at the door as he gave one kiss goodbye before she walked in. She hung up her jacket and set her lunch down on table nearby, grabbing her laptop from the cart. She left it charging earlier beforehand.

“Hey Amber.” She said with a peachy grin on her face as she started rambling about her morning. It was the cutest thing. Her eyes fell onto the blonde who was only half playing attention to what happened, making the brunette pause in her tracks.

“Uhh, earth to Sky? Amber, honey? Hello?” Georgia asked, waving a hand in the air and sighed, “Kazansky!”

“Huh?! What? I’m here, sir!” She yelled snapping out of it, ripping her fingernails away from the tips of her teeths, “Oh, what’s up sweets?”

“I was talking to you and you weren’t listening. That’s what’s up! What’s going on? Your usually cracking a joke by now.”

“You know. I can be very busy, busy, busy bee!”

“Ha! No. That ain’t it. Your always on a semi-busy monthly schedule but this is different. What happened? Was it Rooster and Jen?”

“No..”

“Uhh, hmm. Did Coyote say something stupid again?”

“No he didn’t. Neil didn’t do anything either.”

“Ohh was it Cyclone’s girl Valkyrie?! She’s a tough cookie!”

“No it wasn’t. Nor was it anyone else like Frostbite.”

Georgia’s eyes widen and gasped, “You and Jake had a fight? What did his sorry southern ass to do you? I’ll talk to him. I’ll get Phoenix and Frost as my backup. No one hurts my girl and gets away with it!”

Amber couldn’t help but laugh as she leaned against her chair. Peach was such a doll sometimes. Always so sweet and charmingly spiritual with the way she carried herself. She tend to get nervous and annoyed sometimes but other than that she was well..a peach!

Honestly she needed that today. A laugh from a friend.

“That’s not exactly what Jake said…it wasn’t a fight! We didn’t fight each other for anything. Oh god, I’m sweating. I don’t like this.” Amber admitted with a soft chuckle.

“Oh god something is up if you’re sweating bullets out of nervous. Come on, spill it out!” Georgia encouraged with a certain look.

“I’m meeting my boyfriends older sister today!”

“OH MY GOD! That’s great. From what I received from past relationships, that’s a good thing. That means he likes you, a lot! I’m so happy for you!”

“Now is not the time to be supportive! I’m freaking out, what if she doesn’t like me? What if she hates me and tells Jake stop dating me?! Tell him to aim higher?! That I suck! Cause technically, it’s kinda my fault I put him on a death defining mission to come back to Top Gun. Oh god she’s gonna hate me!”

Georgia stood there with her jaw dropped onto the damn floor. This was one of the first time she ever seen Amber Nic Kazansky in such a frenzy. This woman was always cool, calm and collected from the moment she met her. Giving her advice, by saying if everything is okay and sending a message to everyone on deck she meant every word she ever said.

Yeah sure, she had her moments where she lost her cool like an X-Men during a fight with Wolverine or something. Living up to her callsigns. Like when Jake and Bradley were arguing in the classroom or when Cyclone refused to listen to her and Maverick during the missions they went on.

But this?!

Here she stood in her office freaking out over meeting the family. It was honestly kinda hilarious to her. If she wasn’t such a good friend she would’ve recorded this and sent this whole thing as a video to the group chat.

But honestly it was cute though. It reminded people like her that the Kazansky family was just as human as the rest of them.

It was Georgia turn to calm her down.

“Hey, Amber. Amber, honey look at me. Look at me. Good. Just relax you’re gonna be fine.” Georgia encouraged, holding her shoulders.

“Wh-how? Sorry. How did you react to meeting Jen? She’s practically like a sister to Rooster.” Amber replied, taking a breath.

“Yeah well, I was freaking out cause her dad is sorta a legit legend, but I found her that she’s a total goofball. So maybe eh-what’s her name?”

“Elena.”

“Right, pretty name. Maybe Elena is the same way, just some cool chick. So go on, your gonna be late.”

“But what if she doesn’t like me and Jake didn’t say anything about me? Oh god what if she hates blondes?”

“Ok, now your rambling. Relax, you just gotta prove why your the first Mrs. Hangman. That ring on your fingers means something, right?”

“Right. Right..i yeah, I got this.”

“You got this! Now go on, I have a meeting with Wraith now.”

“Okay but..”

She didn’t have a moment to say anything else because Georgia practically pushed her out the door. She could’ve sworn she’s rubbing off on the brunette with her actions. Amber relaxed her shoulders, she was right. Elena probably a cool girl, relaxed and lay back.

But she was also beauty.

She seen the picture of her last night before she went to sleep. She was stunning with beautiful long blonde hair, pretty eyes glowing like a goddess of the sun and a lovely smile that take someone’s breath away. From just her pictures she seemed like the best women in the world.

A ray of sunshine wrapped up in pretty dress.

Hell she wanted to date her!

The moment Amber entered the cafeteria, her heart stopped. She saw her.

God she was even prettier in person. Laughing in mid conversation with Frostbite—Rachel, chatting about god knows what.

Elena was enjoying herself greatly. It made her smile.

Her outfit was so sweet, her smile was sung by as she laughed and her makeup made her shine.

Amber pushed her hair out of face walking over to the pair who sat at the table, chatting about they’re active services. Once she got closer she heard them a lot clearer.

“Oh stop it!” Elena said mid laugh waving her hand, “You’re the one who got her first air to air kill last week. You should be overjoyed! It’s amazing.”

“Ok it’s not as cool as you! Yeah sure, Jenny and Wraith encouraged me to do it but still.” Rachel added with a chuckle, “You have been to so many different places. That’s awesome.”

Both girls acknowledge her walking over to them.

Frost smiled sheepishly and chuckles, “Hey, have you met Elena? She’s new.”

“No, I haven’t.” Amber repiled with a soft smile turning to the blonde, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Elena said with a smile, “Nice dress.”

“T-thanks. So is yours, I love the pattern!”

“Thank you! I got it from H&M, big sale last month.”

Rachel got a phone call and realized it was one of their friends, excusing herself as she left with a small wave. That left both women to stand there awkwardly chuckling, before Elena realized what her was name again. She remembered her brother telling that her that his girlfriend worked here in the building.

She assumed this was her? But she could be wrong.

So she smiled pointing to the seat in front of her and said, “Sit. Please. Sorry I’m a little nervous, which is rare because I’m not like this.”

“It’s fine, I’m nervous too. Jake has told me about you.” Amber repiled with a smile, sitting down across from her.

“Ohhh! You’re his girlfriend? I’m sorry, he didn’t even show me a picture of you, just told me your name. He just told me that I’ll probably bump into you today.”

“Hahaha! He told me the same thing, he can silly sometimes.”

“No, he can be an idiot sometimes.”

Both girls chuckled breaking the ice a bit.

“He just said, ‘hey since your coming here for the weekend! Come meet my girlfriend.’ That’s all he said.” Elena explained with a chuckle, “I was supposed to be here last week but my boss decided to change my schedule.”

“No, it’s okay! Things happen, my schedule ain’t always the clearest either. Literally Jake just threw that information at me last night so casually. I was freaking out…I mean, you sound cool according him.” Amber repiled as she shyly smile.

Elena found it cute. How did her brother get a someone like her? She seemed so sweet and honestly pretty nice. She felt bad she didn’t get information from her baby brother beforehand, she was completely clueless about this girl.

But it a good thing in her opinion, a clean slate.

“Sounds like him, she tends to tell people stuff and never make himself clear. He’s like a bird strike, I guess.” Elena said with a smile, thinking about all the times her little brother messed up.

“Oh your correct. He knocks someone off course and brings you along for the right. But it’s a nice ride.” Amber added thinking about something and smile, “How about we start over?”

“How so?”

“It’s kinda been a long week for us and I think we should just relax..”

“I like that. Actually I love that! Good idea.”

Amber smiled holding out her hand for the blonde to shake and said, “Hi, I’m Amber Nic Kazansky. Very nice to meet you, Ms. Seresin.”

“Haha! Nice to meet you too, Ms. Kaz—” Elena replied, stopping herself realizing what she just heard and laughed, “Wait! Kazansky?! You’re the Admiral’s daughter?”

“Hahaha yes. Why? I’m sorry that last name kinda surprises people.”

“Surprises people?! How did-? No offense, but i thought the admiral’s kid would have guards nearby or something…sorry.”

It was Elena’s turn to become shocked and a bit nervous but excited all at the same time.

She didn’t know her baby brother was dating the admiral’s kid?! For how long, she didn’t know. He aimed high! Respectfully, she would date an admiral’s kid too if they let her. Even steal her brother’s girlfriend off his hands!

She was impressed. Very impressed.

Amber chuckled, “It’s okay. People like to make rumors around here.”

“Real question, how did my brother pull you? No offense, but he’s a little stupid.” Elena replied with a laugh.

“I guess I like ‘em a little dumb.”

“Oh I like you.”

“Hahaha, the Seresin siblings are one of a kind.”

“And clearly my brother has good taste in women. He got it from me! Where do you work?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing!”

“You first.”

“Okay um. I’m a training officer for recruitment here. I overlook plenty of paperwork for research, send people on missions and organize them.”

“Lieutenant, huh? Respect. I’ll love to see your office some time.”

“What about you?”

“Oh! I work as a lead engineer at the aerospace engineering firm.”

“Wait! Really? That’s so damn so cool.”

“Thanks! I worked on designing cutting-edge aircraft with advanced maneuvering capabilities. All kind of planes.”

“How have we not met before?”

“I have no idea.”

“My uncle Mav, he was the one to worked with you guys for a project a while back. Uh, The Darkstar projects?”

“Yes! That was him?! Everyone was talking about it! He reached so high on the list that day and survived being ejected.”

Both girls laughed, kept chatting and smiling the whole time.

Amber decided to walk her around the building and probably head out to lunch later on. Elena smiled liking that idea very much, holding the door for her as they walked out of the room. Realizing they had nothing to worry about, it was all Jake’s fault that they were so nervous in the first place.

Little did they know Jake Seresin was sitting across the room with Rachel, Javy and Neil watching the whole thing, with his jaw on the floor. He glad they didn’t hate each other or anything but he wasn’t expecting for it to go so well.

Neil was laughing at his reaction and muttering, “Your screwed now.”

“W-what just happened?” Jake asked, sipping his glasses of a water.

Rachel snorted, “I think your sister just stole your girl. Honestly i don’t blame Amber, she’s cool. I’ll date her.”

That was when Jenny walked in with a smirk hearing her and asked, “Who would you date, Frosty?”

“Uh huh? What? Shut up, I’mma shut up now.” Rachel said, rested her head on her shoulder.

“Weirdo.” Jenny repiled with a scoff, grins at Javy and asks, “What we talking about?”

Javy grinning back and chuckles, “The Seresin siblings.”

“I made a huge mistake letting my sister and girlfriend meet, didn’t I?” Jake added downing his drink with a sigh.

His friends just laughed.

Thanks for reading this one! Tell me what did you think about it?

Remember to like, comment and share ✈️

Tags: @mandylove1000 @gaminggirlsstuff @hanlueluver @gcthvile @topgun-imagines @hangmanbrainrot @sherloquestea @rooster-84 @whitewiccan @msrochelleromanofffelton @buckysteveloki-me @djs8891 and etc

#jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x oc #top gun maverick au #melissa benoist #iceman lives #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x oc #hangman x oc #jake hangman fic #diana agron #glen powell #tgm oc #tgm au #iceman daughter #hangman fluff #hangman angst #javy coyote machado #jake seresin x reader

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thedarkworldofhananerea · 5 days

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I'm new to this whole tumblr thing, but I have some ideas about some shots on Bradley Bradshaw or Jake Seresin, help me, we know we deserve it

#bradley bradshaw angst #mitchell!reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #maverick x daughter!reader #bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader #jake hangman seresin #bob floyd x female reader #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun maverick #dad!bradley bradshaw #top gun 1986

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honeypiehotchner · 2 years

Text

Gravedigger’s Daughter (Hangman x Fem!Reader) -- part five

We have reached the (very smutty) (kind of) end. (You’re welcome.)

Do we want an epilogue? I kind of want an epilogue,,, So yeah these two are getting an epilogue 🤪

Summary: You’re finally back in Fightertown to visit Penny and Amelia, but there also happens to be a group of aviators back at Top Gun. One of which who seems dead-set on wooing you.

Warnings: 18+ only! unprotected sex (wrap it irl), oral (f receiving), Jake has a thing for begging, apparently, slight cockwarming (i’m a slut for it, what can i say) they’re still bickering like an old married couple

WC: 3.5k

When you get back to Penny’s house it’s just a few minutes after six, so you expect to be able to lay back on the couch and act like you’ve been there all night.

Except, of course, Penny is awake and waiting for you in the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

“Good morning,” you say, offering a sheepish smile.

Penny nods, smirking, leaning back against the counter. “Good morning. How’s Hangman?”

You quietly close the back door. “Did you hear us?”

“I think the whole street heard you two bickering,” Penny laughs.

But you grimace. “Shit. Did we wake you?”

“No, no,” she shakes her head. “I slept an hour or two and couldn’t anymore.”

“Yeah,” you frown. “Same here. Until Hangman got here. Soaking wet. He walked here.”

“I heard,” Penny reminds you, still laughing. “What was it? You’re fucking crazy!”

“Oh my god.” You hide your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry. I was so pissed. I couldn’t help it.”

“I get it,” Penny says. “You didn’t wake Amelia though, don’t worry. She can sleep through anything, especially with those headphones in.”

“Teenagers,” you chuckle wistfully. “Did you tell her they left?”

Penny shakes her head. “I think she knows. She asked if we could take the boat out for a while.”

“Are you?”

“Well,” Penny sighs. “What are your plans? Do you still want to move?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “But that can wait. If you need to go, I understand. Take some time.” You pause, remembering how you and your mom did that a few times. You could always tell when she was especially worried because the two of you would take off to her sister’s house in Nevada for a week. As if being in a different state would make the pain hurt less if the worst case scenario happened.

“Are you sure?” Penny asks. “I don’t want to leave you--”

“Go,” you insist. “I can watch over The Hard Deck if you want.”

“You don’t have to open,” she says. “Everyone knows I take Amelia on vacation for a few days here and there.”

“Yeah, but now you have me here,” you grin. “I can keep them entertained while you’re gone.”

“You sure you wouldn’t want to come with us?”

You think it over for a moment, then shake your head. “I think I need to be here.”

Penny smiles gently. She gets it. “Okay.”

+++

Penny and Amelia leave the next morning. Amelia tries to convince you to join them, but she quickly lets it go when you cave and tell her you’ll be moving in. You wanted to wait to tell her, but you couldn’t take it anymore.

You spend the day moving things around in the spare room. Penny said she doesn’t mind where you put things, just as long as it isn’t hidden somewhere she can’t find it later. You find room in a few closets and even the closet in the room to store boxes. Penny was exaggerating when she told you just how much was in here. You’re finished in one day.

You don’t open The Hard Deck until the second day, and you only stay open for a few hours. With the aviators gone, not many people came around, and the regulars seemed a bit disappointed when you said Penny was gone on vacation. They’re used to the bar being closed, not a random woman running it for Penny.

Keeping busy is the best thing you can do for yourself.

So, you also head back to your apartment to pack up some more of your things, and officially let your leasing office know you’ll be leaving soon. They tell you that you don’t need to be out until the end of the month, but they don’t argue when you say you’ll likely be out sooner than that.

You load your car down and make a few trips before you’re too exhausted to do anymore for the day. Sitting on the beach sounds much more enticing, so you do that instead.

As the sun sets, you take a quick swim, watching the sky and wondering which direction the aviators are in. And if they’re okay. And if they’ve even gone up yet. And if they have gone up, if it went okay. If they’re on their way back now. If they have to wait.

You haven’t wondered about this many “if’s” since your dad. You forgot how easy it is for them to consume you, but at least it’s slightly easier now to quiet them. Now you know how.

The next day, you decide to grab lunch and eat with your dad. You spend hours out there, eating, drinking, and talking to him. You had no idea you had so much to tell him, even more than last week. You find yourself laughing like you used to with him when he was alive.

The rest of the day, you take a drive with all the windows down, music blaring, feeling free for the first time in a long time.

+++

The regulars at The Hard Deck get used to you after a couple nights, so you’ve started opening the doors every night.

This particular afternoon, you’re getting ready to open, doing all the things you didn’t do yesterday when you closed. You said it could be Tomorrow You’s problem, and now Tomorrow You is paying for it.

Behind you, the door swings open, and without looking, you holler, “Sorry, we’re not open just yet!” You must’ve forgotten to lock the door behind you.

“Really, sweetheart?”

You nearly drop the glass you were drying. Even then, it slams a little too hard on the counter when you let go of it, but you don’t have time to look at it.

Hangman has zero warning before you’re flinging yourself into his arms, wrapped around him like a koala, legs around his middle and all. He stumbles slightly, but regains his footing and widens his stance, holding you tight.

“I got you, honey,” he says, chuckling a little. He kisses your temple a few times, squeezing you. “I got you.”

“I missed you,” you say into his neck. Abruptly, you lift your head and stare at his face, searching for any cuts or bruises. “Are you okay? Did everything go okay?” Your hands move to hold his face, glad to be able to touch him again.

“I’m alright,” he says. “We’re all okay. We did it.”

You smile in relief. And then you kiss him.

Once again, you make him stumble. He’s never had a woman like you, one that can make him lose his balance so easily.

It only takes him a few seconds to get past the shock, and then he’s sighing into your mouth, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his body. You whimper quietly when his grip gets a little too tight, and he groans in response, the sound sending a shock throughout your body.

“Woah! Hey! Jesus!”

You and Hangman spring apart like two teenagers caught making out in your parents’ basement.

Maverick has shielded his eyes and turned away, but you can see his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Sorry Mav,” you murmur sheepishly, walking over to give him a hug, too.

“No problem,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “I see you two got over yourselves.”

“Oh, shut up,” you shove his shoulder and he winces -- genuinely, not trying to get a rise out of you. “Hey,” your eyebrows furrow in concern. “You okay?”

He shrugs. “Been better.”

You give him a stern look. “You were supposed to be training them.” You pause, crossing your arms. “Pete Maverick. Did you fucking go up in this mission?”

“Maybe.”

“For fucks sake,” you mutter, shaking your head. Now you can really see all the cuts and bruises on his face. What the fuck happened? You know you can’t ask. “I’m glad you’re alive, but holy fuck. You’ve lost your mind.”

“Me too, kiddo,” Mav smiles, ignoring your last comments. “Where’s Penny?”

You were waiting for that to come out of his mouth. You smile sadly. “Her and Amelia went on vacation for a few days.”

He nods. “Oh. Okay.”

“Sorry, Mav,” you murmur. “She just couldn’t…be here, you know. She--”

“I get it, yeah,” he says, but he’s clearly hurt. You can see it on his face and hear it in his few words. “Well, I’ll text her.”

“I’ll let her know you stopped by,” you say. It might help for you to say something to her, too.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “Well, I uh…I should probably go.” Maverick gestures between you and Hangman. “So you two can…catch up.” His shit-eating grin splits his face, and you all but kick him out of the bar.

With Maverick gone, you walk back toward Hangman, who is leaning against the bar in his usual suave way. And he’s smirking, of course.

“What are we doing tonight?” he asks.

“Depends,” you shrug, planning to tease him as much as possible. “You taking me to dinner first?”

“First?” He raises an eyebrow. “Before…?”

You feign deep thought, crossing your arms over your chest. “Hm. We’ll see how dinner goes.”

“You’re killin’ me, honey.”

“That’s the plan.”

The truth? You’d love to lock the doors and have him ravish you right here on the bar. But you’re classier than that, and the bartop would probably be uncomfortable as hell. Especially when you have a house to yourself. You have 100% certainty that Penny and Amelia won’t be back for at least another two days, so you won’t have to worry about anyone walking in on you two.

“Do you want to go out?” Hangman asks, pushing himself off the bar to stand at his full height. “Or what about if we stay in?”

“Order in?” you question.

He shakes his head, walking closer to you to rest his hands on your hips. “Absolutely not. I’ll cook.”

You raise both eyebrows. “You. You cook?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He almost looks genuinely offended. “My momma raised me right, thank you very much. I know how to cook a lady a proper meal. I haven’t exactly had the chance before, but--”

“Mm, right, because you’re a love ‘em and leave ‘em type,” you say, regretting it when you do. It feels like a low blow, but it’s like your common sense short circuits when he’s around.

“I used to be,” he agrees, taking it in stride. “But I haven’t been that way in years.”

“Really now?” You rest your hands on his chest, unable to restrain yourself from touching him.

“I guess I’ve been waiting for you, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, but that was smooth. It’s taking everything in you not to smile at him, and he can tell. Just like that, the conversation is righted again, and the weird tension has left.

“Do you like breakfast?” he asks.

“Yeah?” you reply. “Who doesn’t?”

“Just checking,” he shrugs. “What time do you wanna eat?”

“Whenever it’s ready,” you smile. “We’ll need to go to the store first. There’s next to nothing in Penny’s house.”

“What about here?” he asks. “You opening tonight?”

“Not anymore,” you reply, looking at him like he’s dumb (he is, a little). “There hasn’t been much business, anyway. They really love Penny.”

“Don’t we all,” he grins. “Can we go now?”

“You’re just eager to get in my pants, aren’t you?”

He grins. “Can you blame me?”

“Nope,” you reply, flashing him a sweet smile. “I’ll just make you wait even longer.”

+++

After getting all of the ingredients from the store (and some other food for you to eat, after Hangman scolded you for how bare the cabinets were), Hangman takes over Penny’s kitchen.

You try to help him cook, but the most he lets you do is grab the eggs for him. You try to help mix the pancake batter and he swats your hands away.

“All I want you to do is park your ass on that counter,” he points with the spatula, “and look pretty while I cook.”

“Hm.” You find it hard to argue with that. It’s been a long time since you’ve had someone else cook for you. So, you hop on the counter and let him do his thing.

Which apparently includes loudly serenading you with George Strait.

He only meant to do one song, but when he saw the smile it brought to your face, he wanted to do entire albums.

The two of you eat at the kitchen table because when you suggested the couch, Hangman teased, “We’re not hooligans.”

He sets the table and finds a random candle to light, but the scent smells awful so you blow it out immediately.

Honestly, the pancakes are delicious. You expected them to be nothing special -- because they’re pancakes -- but somehow he has made the best damn pancakes you’ve ever had. And it infuriates you.

The two of you bicker about how to load the dishwasher because it’s not the best, so you have to be picky about where certain things are placed unless you want the house to flood.

Then, on your way to the couch, you bicker about what movie to watch because his taste in movies is horseshit and he says the same about yours, but neither of you really mean it.

And eventually, he ends the arguing by kissing you to shut you up.

“God, you irritate me,” you say in between kisses.

“Same here,” he mutters, absolutely devouring your mouth. “Can we just--” he pauses because you keep kissing him, like you’ve been in a desert for three years and have finally found an oasis. “Shit.”

“Mhm,” you nod, pausing your kisses only for him to chase you down. At least this time he begins kissing your neck so you can talk, but you can’t think and you’re already out of breath. “What were you saying?”

He lifts his head, chest heaving, pupils blown. He’s a goner, yet still he says, “We don’t have to do anything else if you’re not comfortable or, you know, or ready, I just-- I just really needed to kiss you.”

You smile, cupping his cheek. “I really appreciate that,” you murmur. “But if you don’t fuck me in the next fifteen minutes, I’m kicking you out.”

In one swift move, Hangman has you lying on your back and he’s hovering above you. “Don’t worry about that, honey,” he says. “I just needed you to say the word.”

“Thank god,” you laugh, reaching up to grab his face and pull his lips back down to yours.

He lowers his body onto yours and you can feel just how excited he is, especially when his hips jerk involuntarily against your stomach.

“Having problems?” you tease, your fingertips already wandering to the hem of his t-shirt.

“None at all,” he replies, getting your message and yanking his shirt over his head.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, of course, but that time was different. Something about seeing him up close this time, just above you, makes it that much hotter.

“What are you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

“What kind of lover you are,” you reply. Not a total lie.

“Depends,” he says with that wild grin of his.

You raise an eyebrow. “On what?”

“On what kind of day it’s been for you, for me,” he says. “And it depends on what you need.”

“You have got to stop being so smooth.”

“No can do, sweetheart,” he says. “I don’t know how.”

You pull his face down to yours again, wanting to feel his lips and tongue against yours. He kisses you for a few moments before he pulls away again, making you frown.

“What do you need tonight?” he asks, and you can tell he’s dead serious.

“You,” you answer. “I just need you.”

“You have me,” he says. “What else?”

“I don’t have you until I have you inside of me,” you reply.

“Now who’s being smooth?” he teases, already working his pants down his legs. He kicks them off and leaves his boxers, focusing on you for the moment. “Can I take this off?”

You grin. “Thought you’d never ask.”

With all of your clothes gone except your underwear, you lift your back to allow Hangman to unclip your bra -- which he does with scary precision. Once it’s off, Hangman immediately cups your breasts in both hands, and dives for your neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Jesus christ,” you mutter, not prepared at all for how he goes from 0 to 100 every time. His boxers are on, but his hips are grinding against yours seemingly on their own.

His lips travel from your cheeks to your lips as his hands move south. One wraps around your back to pull you into his body, and the other finds its way into your underwear. He snakes one finger inside you and you cry out, which just lets his tongue race for yours.

He pulls back, though, feeling your walls already beginning to flutter around his finger. “Shit,” he says. “I have to taste you-- Can I taste you?”

You’re barely able to say yes before he’s moving down your body, leaving small kisses in his wake. He tugs your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere before parting your thighs.

“You’re so pretty, darlin’,” he whispers, his thumbs massaging your thighs. His voice alone makes you shift your hips, opening your legs wider for him. He takes the invitation.

You’ve let a man go down on you once before, but he wasn’t good and you never tried again. Hangman is very obviously a different story, based on the sheer fact that he has you cumming just seconds after his lips zero in on your clit. This is not a man who is afraid of worshiping you.

He works his fingers into you and you reach your second climax in no time. He curls his fingers ever so slightly as your body shakes for him.

“I don’t wanna leave this view,” he chuckles, but you’re already tugging at his shoulders, demanding he return to kissing you.

“Get these off,” you mutter, accidentally snapping the elastic of his boxers.

“Ow!” he feigns hurt. “Feisty.” He kicks his boxers off and you feel him rest against your stomach, hard and warm. “Better?”

“Much,” you grin, kissing him while your hand sneakily moves down to wrap around him.

His hips stutter when he feels your hand and he groans into your mouth, nearly collapsing on top of you. “Give a man some warning, will you?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you laugh, slowly moving your hand, which you know must be torturing him. “Did you bring a condom?”

His head drops into your neck. “Fuck.”

“I’m taking that as a no,” you reply.

“I didn’t think, honey, I’m sorry,” he says, lifting his head, and when he looks into your eyes, he’s genuinely regretful.

“I’m on birth control,” you say. “And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone for years.”

“I’m clean, too,” he says. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“You’d be outside right now if I wasn’t,” you tease. “I’m fine with it if you are.”

“Of course I’m fine with it,” he replies, kissing your nose. “But you need to stop before I cum.”

You quickly remove your hand, not wanting him to finish just yet. You’d much rather he did that inside of you than all over your stomach.

Neither of you can wait any longer. You help guide his head inside, arching your back at the feel of him sliding home. When he’s fully seated inside of you, he pauses, taking deep breaths. You can feel him twitching, you know he’s using all of his strength to not cum right away, and somehow that makes it even hotter.

“You need to move,” you groan. “I need you to move, Jake, please.”

“Say that again.”

You almost didn’t hear him. “What?”

“Say it again,” he says, pressing his hips even closer to yours.

“Please,” you say, not even sure if that’s what he wants, but you’re getting desperate. “Please, move, Jake-- fuck!”

He goes slow, but it’s enough. His strokes are long and deep, and each one leaves you writhing and begging for more.

“You want me to go faster?” he says, lips sucking at your neck. “Beg for it.”

“Oh my god.” You hate him. You hate him so much. “Please, harder, Jake, please.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, then does exactly as you wish.

His hips slam into yours at a blinding pace. You’re given no warning before you cum for the third time tonight, holding onto Jake for dear life as he doesn’t slow down at all, chasing his own release. Even as you feel him cumming inside of you, his hips don’t falter. Instead, he holds you tighter, moaning into your neck as your walls flutter around him, struggling to calm down.

With your chests heaving, you stay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, for who knows how long.

You scratch small circles on the back of his head, and he falls asleep in no time, shifting most of his weight toward the back of the couch so he isn’t crushing you entirely. You follow him to sleep a few moments later.

#gravedigger’s daughter #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman top gun fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman x fem!reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman smut

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justabigassnerd · 1 year

Text

New Best Friend

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,787

Warnings - fluff and that's about it

Summary - the Daggers meet Jake's two-year-old daughter and she decides that Fanboy is her new favourite person

Sequel - 'Replaced'

A/N - hey y'all! This was an anon request that I ADORED writing. I did adjust a couple of things because that's just how the ideas came out while I was writing but I hope I did the idea justice nonetheless! This is also NOT a part of the Hangman junior universe, just wanted to clarify. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

“You ready to meet daddy’s friends, sweetheart?” Jake asks gently as he bounced you up and down on his hip slightly, eliciting a giggle from you. Jake had finally dropped the bombshell that he had a two-year-old daughter on his team and within seconds of finding out that information, the team demanded to meet you. Javy had already met you; he’d been the one helping Jake through the whole process of being a single father, but the rest of the team hadn’t been aware of your existence. Jake had invited the Daggers around to his house to hang out and to meet you. It was a Friday evening so everyone was free, and he chose to have them come to his house so you felt safe and comfortable with meeting his teammates. Now that the Dagger Squadron had become a permanent detachment, Jake felt more comfortable letting the team meet you since he didn’t want you to grow attached to them and then have them leave. He didn’t want to put you through any upset or heartbreak.

Jake stopped bouncing you when the doorbell rang, signalling someone’s arrival at the house. Jake walked through the house with you sat happily on his hip. Jake knew you were shy, so he was hoping Javy was the first one to show up to ease you in slightly.

“Hey, Jake.” Javy says with a smile as the door opens.

“Javy!” You squeal happily, reaching out for him so Jake passes you to him. Javy gives you a big hug as he enters the house, kicking his shoes off and following Jake into the kitchen to help set out food for the evening. You continued to cling to Coyote, but he skilfully managed to move plates while you sat comfortably in his arms. Just as the two finished setting up, the doorbell rang again, and Coyote crossed to the front door to open it after he put you down. He opened the door to reveal Phoenix and Bob who smile softly before being allowed in. The pilot and WSO duo enter the house, easing their shoes off and following Coyote into the living room where you were sat in Jake’s lap, cuddling into his side, a fistful of his shirt in your hand. The second your eyes landed on Phoenix and Bob you cuddled closer to your dad, hiding your face.

“Sorry.” Jake says over to the two, who shake their heads with a smile, understanding that you’re shy. You do give them a small wave but that’s as much courtesy as you extend to them. Soon after, Rooster arrives, greeting you with a smile and a wave that you mirror. Those who had arrived chatted with each other after grabbing a drink. None of them wanted to freak you out so they were content to let you cuddle into Jake and watch them quietly. Soon, Payback and Fanboy arrived, both apologising profusely for being late while they entered the living room. You gave both men a shy wave and they found somewhere to sit in the living room. Fanboy sat on the floor by the end of the sofa, discovering a small Mickey Mouse plush on the floor near him and picking it up.

“Is this yours y/n?” He asked gently, holding the plush out towards you as you nod and take it from his hand with a small ‘thank you’ as you cuddle the toy to your chest.

“Who’s that you got there?” Rooster asks quietly, looking over at you.

“Mickey Mouse.” You say shyly as Jake smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He was proud at you for speaking to someone you didn’t know.

“You know, my name is Mickey.” Fanboy says which perks your interest as you shift in your dad’s lap, ignoring his joking groan as you elbow him lightly in the side during your shuffling.

“Really?” You ask curiously, clutching your toy closer to your chest.

“Really.” Fanboy confirms with a nod, officially winning you over as you wiggle out of your dad’s grasp as he eases you down onto the floor so you can toddle towards Fanboy. You instantly open your arms as you reach Fanboy, and he mirrors your action allowing you to clamber onto his lap and cuddle into him. You were clearly not interested in what the team were watching and grew restless but didn’t want to leave the sanctuary you found in Fanboy’s arms.

“Do you want me to take her?” Jake said, noticing how you were restless and didn’t want Fanboy to have to deal with it.

“Nah, I got her. Is that okay?” Fanboy replies, glancing over at Jake to get a response to which Jake nods with a small smile.

“Alright y/n, let’s move.” Fanboy says with a grin, carefully getting to his feet while keeping you in his arms as your arms wind around his neck for added security. You still kept your toy kept tightly in your grasp as Fanboy carried you to the back door. He stepped out into the cool evening air where the sun was beginning its descent over the horizon.

“It’s pretty, huh?” Fanboy says gently, bouncing you on his hip lightly. Your eyes were fixed on the reds and oranges that painted the evening sky, watching the clouds that passed. Noticing a passing jet, Fanboy carefully points it out to you before covering one of your ears and then pressing your head gently against his shoulder so your ears are protected from the loud passing of the jet. When Fanboy considers the jet to be far enough away, he removes his hand.

“Did you see that?” Fanboy asks with a grin as you nod, eyes wide with awe from the jet passing over, you were already searching for another one.

“My daddy flies planes!” You exclaim, pointing up at where the jet had previously been. Fanboy wasn’t expecting you to get so excited about a jet but upon the mention of Jake, he understood. You loved your dad with all your heart and Fanboy could tell easily.

“He does, doesn’t he? You know I do that too? And everyone in the house with your dad. Well, me and Bob don’t, we sit in the backseat but we’re just as important.” Fanboy explains, knowing his words were most likely going in one ear and out the other but he loved seeing your eyes lighting up at the mention of your dad. Fanboy then begins to point out various clouds, asking you if you thought they looked like something. Over time, Fanboy noticed that you were slowly getting more and more tired, and your head was dropping onto his shoulder.

“We should get you inside, yeah?” Fanboy whispers to you, turning to head back inside the house, closing the door behind him and locating Jake in the kitchen, putting food away.

“Hey, Hangman. I think y/n’s ready to go to bed.” Fanboy says to his teammate, who immediately turns to face Fanboy, a soft smile covering his face at the sight of you cuddled into Fanboy.

“I got her. Most of the others are heading home now so you’re good to go.” Jake said with a smile as he reaches out to take you.

“No, Mickey stay.” You whine, burying your face in Fanboy’s neck.

“y/n/n, come on sweetheart. He needs to go home and you, little miss, need to go to bed.” Jake says, reaching out to take you once more but again you shied away, even tucking your Mickey Mouse plush into the crook of your elbow so it hid your face more.

“If it’s okay with you. I could stay until she falls asleep. I don’t mind.” Fanboy offers, bouncing you gently to stop the tears he noticed in your eyes when your dad mentioned you having to go to bed.

“Okay. Come on, I’ll show you to her room.” Jake says, leading Fanboy upstairs after bidding goodbye to the Daggers as they left. Fanboy enters the bedroom, smiling at the décor. It was clear you were a big Disney fan. Fanboy pulls back the duvet on your small bed and eases you down, making sure that your Mickey Mouse toy is still in your grasp.

“Story, please.” You ask Fanboy, pointing to the book that laid just by your bed.

“She can’t go to sleep without a story.” Jake elaborates from where he stood in the doorway, watching every interaction with a gentle smile. Fanboy nods, picking up the book, sitting on the edge of your bed, and holding the book so you could see the pictures. Fanboy read the book, making sure to do different voices for the characters as you giggled at his variety of voices. Soon enough, your eyes began to droop, and you snuggled into your pillow, Mickey Mouse toy cuddled into your chest as you curled into a ball.

“Goodnight, y/n/n.” Fanboy whispers, easing himself up carefully and placing the book on the top of your bookshelf while Jake came in the room fully and knelt by the bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and pulling the duvet up around you. He switched the nightlight on by your bed and motioned for Fanboy to follow him, both of them leaving the room with Jake switching your room light off and pulling the door closed, leaving it open a crack.

“You were good with her. Didn’t know you had that in you.” Jake comments as he and Fanboy make their way downstairs.

“I have an older sister, she’s got a kid so I guess I just know how to look after a kid now.” Fanboy shrugs, like it, was an obvious answer.

“Well, you won her over. I think you’re her new best friend. I’ve been dethroned.” Jake chuckles, clapping Fanboy on the shoulder.

“She’s going to be heartbroken tomorrow when she realises, you’re not here. It’ll be like I don’t exist to her.” Jake says, shaking his head with one more soft chuckle.

“I can always come around tomorrow. She’s a cute kid and I don’t mind taking her off your hands for a while. It’ll give you some time to yourself.” Fanboy suggests, glancing over at Jake whose eyes widen slightly in shock.

“You don’t have to. I don’t want to force you into anything.” Jake says quickly.

“You’re not forcing me. I suggested it. I want to help out.” Fanboy says, smiling at Jake who processes his words before nodding slightly.

“Well, you’re always welcome to come and see your new best friend. And I will be telling Payback that he’s been replaced.”

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sebastianstangirl01 · 2 years

Note

Can you do a part 2 of “woah baby” but the birth or something like that? Love your writing btw!!!!🫶🫶

Woah Baby: Part 2

Title: Woah Baby: Part 2

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Mitchell Reader

Summary: You and Jake are counting down the days until you welcome your baby into the world. It may be sooner than you thought.

Warnings: labor, language

Authors Note: so many of you have asked for this so I hope you like it!! Gif does not belong to me, the rights are to the rightful owner!

It’s been officially 8 months since you found out you were pregnant with Jake Seresin’s baby. After escaping the wrath of your brother and honorary father you all sat down together and had an adult conversation about what was going to happen.

You and Jake decided it was best if you moved in together so he could be there with you every step of the way during the pregnancy. So far Jake has been the best boyfriend you could ask for he has been to every doctors appointment, he has taken care of you through the morning sickness, the horrible back aches, the swollen ankles, the unpredictable mood swings. Through it all Jake has been by your side.

Maverick and Rooster jumped into the grandpa and uncle roles quickly, your baby already had their own nursery filled with toys at both of their houses for the nights when you and Jake would need to catch up on some sleep allowing them to take the baby for the night.

The rest of your friends were great too. It turns out Phoenix and Bob had a bet going all along that you and Jake were together, Phoenix ended up becoming $100 richer.

The boys had come over and set the nursery up while Penny, Phoenix, and Amelia helped you sort all the baby clothes and the gifts you got from your baby shower. At the end of the day your nursery was painted gray with pastel blues and greens since you both decided to wait and be surprised by the gender, you and Jake treated everyone to some pizza and wings as a thanks for their help.

That next week Jake had to go to base to run some drills with The Dagger Team as a demonstration to the new Top Gun students, all of them had decided to stick around Top Gun and teach while occasionally going on some missions. The Uranium Plant mission gave everyone their fill of danger and adrenaline, now they were all ready to settle down and leave that stuff to the newer generations.

“Jake I told you I’ll be fine. I haven’t had any Braxton Hicks in 3 days, Penny and Amelia are coming over anyway for lunch.” You told Jake who was against the idea of leaving you at home all alone since you were getting close to the due date.

“But what if you need me and I’m not here? What if something happens with the baby?” Jake asked wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood leaning against the kitchen counter

“Well there’s this really cool thing called a cellphone, so I can call you directly if I need you.” You teased making Jake roll his eyes and you giggle wrapping your arms around his neck. “I appreciate how worried you are Jake, it just proves how great of a father your going to be. But I promise we’ll be ok.”

Jake sighed but nodded knowing you were right, he has been so worried about every little thing since finding out you were pregnant. It turned out that Jake’s parents had lost a baby when Jake was about 12 and ever since seeing how much losing a child destroyed his parents he’s terrified of anything like that happening to him and you.

“If anything and I mean anything happens. If you even need me to come home and make you a sandwich then you call me.” Jake said kissing your forehead making you smile

“I will. I promise. Now go before your late.” You said giving Jake a peck on the lips before handing him the lunch she made him

“I love you.” Jake said holding his lunch in one hand while letting his other rest on your swollen stomach. “And I love you.”

You giggled as the baby immediately kicked the spot Jake’s hand was making him smile as he rubbed in little circles.

“We love you too. Call me during your lunch break if you get time.” You said and Jake nodded giving you one last kiss before leaving.

It’s been a few hours Penny and Amelia got to the house not long after Jake left and you guys have been binge watching all the Jurassic Park movies.

“I still don’t get the appeal of resurrecting billion year old killer dinosaur’s.” You said rubbing your belly as you snacked on some roman noodles

“They never learn.” Amelia shook her head tossing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it in her mouth

Penny sat in the arm chair and chuckled at the two of you, you were on the 3rd movie and always without fail found something to critique about each one.

You jumped a little in your seat as you felt another kick to your lower stomach, for the past few minutes you have been having uncomfortable cramping sensations in your lower stomach and the baby has been kicking you like crazy.

“You ok?” Amelia asked noticing the uncomfortable look on your face making Penny immediately look over towards you

“Yeah, just cramping.” You said wincing as another kick was felt

“How often?” Penny asked sitting up while you looked at her with furrowed brows

“In the last 30 minutes maybe 5 minutes apart.” You said breathing deeply

“Are you kidding me? Y/N! Your in labor! We have to get you to the hospital!” Penny exclaimed quickly rushing over to you

“No I’m not, there’s no way. It’s too early.” You shook your head not wanting to believe that you could actually be having your baby today

“Sweetheart it’s not too early, I had Amelia when I was 33 weeks and your already at 35. Amelia call Pete and tell him to get Jake to the hospital, Y/N let’s get you dressed and get your stuff together.” Penny said helping you stand as Amelia nodded and grabbed her phone.

“Pen I’m scared. I’ve been so busy thinking about the pregnancy it’s self it’s like I forgot that I actually have to go through agonizing labor to bring the baby into the world.” You said feeling anxiety bubble in your chest

“I was scared too, but you have Jake in your corner. He would never let anything happen to you and he will be there with you every step of the way. You will never have to worry about being alone there are so many people who love you and are so excited to watch you and Jake become parents. Everything is going to be ok.” Penny soothed and you nodded taking a deep breath. “Now let’s get you to the hospital.”

You had never been in more pain in your entire life then you were in this moment, your water broke shortly after you got to the hospital. You were about to get an epidural when they realized that you were actually allergic to the medication they use so now you unfortunately have to do the labor completely drug free.

“I hate this. It hurts its hurts so bad.” You gasped in between cries as you went through another round of contractions.

Penny hadn’t left your side since you got to the hospital, she had Amelia waiting outside so she could show Jake where to go when they got here.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. Do you want to try to walk around some?” Penny asked dabbing your forehead with a cold wet wash cloth

You nodded shakily and Penny helped you shift into a sitting position on the edge of the bed before helping you stand, she wrapped one arm around your waist and held your hand.

“Deep breaths.” Penny instructed you as she lead you around the hospital room

You tried your best to follow Penny’s instructions but let out a cry as another contraction hit this one much larger than the others causing your knees to buckle. Penny quickly wrapped her other arm around your waist and held you up before slowly lowering you down into the chair in the corner of the room.

“Your ok. Breath through it honey.” Penny said holding both your hands and helping you breath through the contraction

“I’m here! I’m here!” Jake exclaimed as he ran into the room with Pete and Bradley behind him

“Jake.” You cried in relief as he ran over to you allowing you to lean against his chest. “It’s horrible. It’s so horrible. I can’t have any medicine. It hurts so bad.”

“What do you mean you can’t have any medicine?” Jake asked surprised, he was under the impression that you were going to be able to have an epidural and hopefully be able to relax a little

“She’s allergic to the medication. They can’t give her any pain medicine she has to do it naturally.” Penny said with a sympathetic tone

“Oh honey. I’m so sorry.” Jake sighed, he couldn’t imagine how much pain you were in right now. Normally you have a very high pain tolerance so to see you in tears at the pain you are in right now has him feeling horrible

“We’ll give you two some privacy. Your doing great sweetheart.” Pete said kissing your forehead before leaving the room with Penny

“Your doing so well sis. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Bradley told you and you nodded before he left the room

“Let’s get you back into bed.” Jake said and you nodded allowing him to scoop you into his arms and carry you back over to the bed. “I’m sorry your in so much pain.”

“Just hold me please.” You mumbled scooting over and Jake complied kicking his boots off and sliding into bed next to you.

He helped you lay on your side and spooned you from behind resting his warm palm on your lower stomach hoping to relieve some of the pain.

“Oh that feels good baby.” You sighed at the warmth as he gently rubbed circles on your stomach

There was a knock on your door and your doctor peaked her head in with 2 nurses behind her, you had requested very limited people in the room not wanting too many people making it too hectic.

“Hey there momma. I’ve come to see how far along we are, do you mind if I check your dilation?” Dr. Gardner asked

“Go ahead. Just get this kid out of me.” You sighed as Jake and one of the nurses helped you onto your back while the other nurse helped get your legs into the stirrups

“Are you sure there isn’t any medicine you can give her? What about morphine?” Jake asked rubbing your forehead

“Unfortunately we can’t use morphine during labor because it can risk Y/N’s blood pressure dropping too low. If she is still under 9 centimeters then we can try a warm bath to help sooth the pain.” Dr. Gardner said as she finished washing her hands and putting on gloves, she sat down in between your legs and began examining your cervix. “Well I’ll be damned. Y/N your at 10 centimeters, it’s time to push.”

“What? It is?” You asked as the two nurses started getting everything ready for the delivery and Dr. Gardner put her gown on before replacing her gloves with a brand new pair.

“It’s time, I want you to take some deep breaths then when you feel your next contraction coming don’t fight it. Let your body tell you what to do, if you need to push then push.” Dr. Gardner said as the two nurses stood next to your legs

“Jake. I’m scared.” You whined feeling tears build up in your eyes causing Jake’s heart to clinch

“I know you are. But I’m right here and I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, everything is going to be ok. This will all be over before you know it and then our baby will be here. I love you so so much and I’m so proud of you.” Jake said kissing you and rubbing your cheek soothingly

You nodded and took a few deep breaths before whining as you felt another pain coming along.

“Ow ow ow!” You exclaimed scrunching your face up in pain making Jake wince but grab your hand so you can squeeze as hard as you need to.

“Ok Y/N push.” Dr. Gardner instructed

You yelled as you pushed as hard as you could, it felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside out. Everything hurt and the burning sensation between your legs was almost excruciating. You pushed until you literally lost your breath causing you to flop back against the bed panting.

“Good. Good job. Take you a breather then push on your next contraction.” Dr. Gardner said

“Jake.” You whined gripping onto his arm and hiding your face in his chest

“Can I get in bed behind you?” Jake asked and you desperately nodded

Jake gently helped you sit up and slid into bed behind you, you sighed in relief as you slouched back against his chest.

“Lean back against me honey. Try to get as comfortable as you can.” Jake said kissing your cheek as you leaned your head back against his shoulder

Before you knew it you were pushing again, Jake held both your hands and pressed his chest to your back helping you sit up as you pushed.

“I see the head! Give me a big push Y/N!” Dr. Gardener said and you pushed as hard as you could until you felt the pressure in your stomach disappear

Your ears were ringing as you leaned back against Jake but the unmistakable sound of a shrill scream knocked you out of your daze. Dr. Gardner smiled from behind her mask as she held your screaming baby up between your legs.

“It’s a boy!” Dr. Gardner exclaimed and you cried tears of joy

You could feel Jake’s chest shake from behind you and peaked over your shoulder to see tears falling down his face. He caught your gaze and cradled your face before pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you so much. Thank you for giving me a son.” Jake praised making tears fall down your face as you smiled

“I love you.” You smiled before turning back towards Dr. Gardner who smiled holding your son

“Do you want to do skin to skin?” Dr. Gardner asked and you frantically nodded

“Yes.” You said as Jake helped unclip the top of your gown allowing your naked chest to show. “Are you doing it too?”

“Yeah.” Jake nodded slipping his shirt off, you had both read somewhere that both parents and the baby having skin to skin was a great bonding experience

You leaned back against Jake’s chest as the baby was placed onto yours causing the crying to stop as your baby felt your warm skin soothing the coldness he felt from being out of the womb. Jake placed his hands over yours as they gently rested on your baby’s back.

“Hi baby boy. I’m your mommy.” You sniffled as the baby cooed and you pressed a kiss to his forehead

“We’re so excited to meet you little guy.” Jake spoke causing the baby to let out a satisfied whine making him smile

“We’ll get you both cleaned up then give you some privacy before visitors.” Dr. Gardner said as one of the nurses gently took your baby to clean. “No tearing which is very good. You’ll definitely be sore for a few days and no sex for 6 weeks.”

“Damn it, I forgot about that part.” Jake said making you laugh

After both you and the baby were cleaned up and you got changed into some comfortable pajama shorts and a tank top that snapped at the straps making it easy to breast feed, Jake was now sitting next to you on the bed still shirtless as he watched you feed the baby for the first time.

“Does it feel weird?” Jake asked tilting his head as he watched the baby nurse making you chuckle

“A little. Feels like my nipples going to pop off, not much different then when you do it.” You said making Jake chuckle as shake his head as he kissed your forehead

“What can I say, I love your boobies.” Jake smirked making you laugh

“Boobies? How old are you?” You laughed making Jake shrug. “I think little guys full.”

“You want me to go get everyone?” Jake asked clipping the straps of your tank top back into place

“Yeah sure. How do you think Pops and Bradley are going to react to his name?” You asked with a nervous smile

“I think they are going to love it. I’ll be right back.” Jake said kissing your lips before carefully kissing the baby’s forehead

You smiled down at your baby in silence he was staring up at you with big green/blue eyes that he got from your blue eyes and Jake’s green.

“You are going to be so loved you know that? I only wish you got to meet your grandma and grandpa, they would have doted on you. But we have some really good people who will make sure you have the best life. I love you so much my baby boy.” You smiled gently bringing your finger to trace over his nose, a nose you could swear was a replica of your fathers

Jake came back through the door with a smile as Pete, Bradley, Penny, and Amelia followed behind him all with excited grins.

“The others are in the waiting room, they wanted to give all of us a minute.” Jake told you sliding back into bed beside you, his arm automatically settling around your body

“How are you feeling momma?” Penny asked moving closer

“Tired. But good.” You smiled before turning to Bradley and Pete who were looking at you with misty eyes. “Pops. Brad. I want you to meet Nicholas Pete Seresin.”

Bradley smiled and tears filled his eyes at the name as he came to your bedside. You looked up and saw Pete with tears spilling down his cheeks making you tear up.

“It’s perfect.” Pete smiled coming to your bedside

Jake gave you a kiss before standing up and accepting a hug from Penny, knowing that you needed a minute with Pete and Bradley.

“He’s perfect Y/NN. God he’s so perfect.” Bradley smiled kissing your forehead

“Thanks Brad.” You smiled before turning to your honorary father. “Pops? Do you want to hold your grandson?” You asked and Pete shakily nodded

“Of course.” Pete exhaled as he gently took baby Nick out of your arms and cradled him in his arms. “God he looks just like Goose.”

“He does doesn’t he?” You asked with a small laugh as you leaned against your brother

“He’d be so proud kid. They both would.” Pete smiled and you nodded shakily

“I wish they were here.” You said tearfully

“They’re here.” Bradley assured you with a tearful smile. “They’ll always be here.”

Soon after, everyone got to come back and see the newest addition to the Dagger team with Phoenix and Rooster being named godparents and everyone doting over baby Nick. Everyone eventually piled out letting the new family of three have some time together.

You and Jake were laying together in bed with Nick cradled against Jake’s chest fast asleep with a full stomach and fresh diaper.

“I never thought I would have this.” Jake said breaking the comfortable silence. “I never thought I would have a woman who I love more than anything in the world or a son who makes me feel an amount of love I didn’t think was possible. You have given me more than I could ever ask for and I love you so much for it.”

“I love you too Jake. Thank you for being here with me.” You smiled resting your head on his chest next to Nick

“There’s no where else in the world I’d rather be.” Jake smiled looking at his new family.

Taglist:

@daughterofthereaper02

@luckyladycreator2

@calpurniatypes

@littlebadariell

@qnfluvr

@raefoxiegirl

@maverick-wingman

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete mitchell #jake hangman seresin #top gun #bradley bradshaw #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x sister reader #pete mitchell x daughter reader

854 notes · View notes

daughterofthereaper02 · 2 years

Text

Servicewoman of Honor

A/n: I’m breaking my own rule kinda. I just couldn’t stop with this idea. This is more of a story about everyone and not too much romantic so it doesn’t really break the rule. However, Ice will not be sick in this.

Warnings: Death, mentions of infertility

NOTE: as stated in a post, there will be side parts. I wanted to write something to have a woman impact people's lives. I wanted there to be the honor and to show the main start of her impact on small group while mentioning it on a larger scale. The glance over shows she helped those her whole life and had others too. This glance over will be where I later cam write the side parts.

Summary: You were an amazing woman, your life was being honored in the best way.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this. Likes, comments, and reblogs are welcomed and encouraged

BIG THANK YOU to @spidermankenobi. You stayed up with me for HOURS going back and forth with ideas. Without your encouragement and ideas, this would not exist.

Word count: 2.1K

"I stand before you all today to tell you about an incredible woman who impacted many lives. Myself included." Fleet Admiral Bradshaw said, in front of the large crowd. "Her name was Admiral Y/n L/n, later Kazansky-Mitchell at retirement. Her story is an honorable one filled with adventures, love, heartbreak, and stress. She was a naval aviator, class of 1986, who made her life's mission to create equal opportunities in the military." He stated, straightening up even more. "I will share some of her story but it doesn't do her justice. Those that knew her knew how incredible she really and truly was," he said, the smallest smile gracing his lips.

As he spoke of your story, he thought back to when the biggest impact on his life began.

**flashback

The whole Dagger Squad was confused, Fleet Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell were extremely happy and nervous all day. Bradley was staying tight-lipped about everything that he knew, all of the squad only knew that the Class of 1986 was having a reunion tonight and they would be staying to teach the squad some stuff in a few days’ time.

The Hard Deck was closed that night for the reunion as it would be all of ‘86 along with the new instructors. Penny was more than happy to accommodate as long as the Squad helped her out with getting it all ready.

When they were putting out photos, Phoenix gasped, “The Admiral L/N will be showing up tonight!?” She asked, seeing the picture of you. Bradley grinned, “Y/n will probably be upset to hear being called Admiral. If she had it her way she would still be a Captain like Maverick!” He chuckled, hiding that you were married to both Pete and Tom.

You were supposed to be back for the Uranium mission but there were issues at the Pentagon that you couldn’t leave until today. “You’re on a- What am I saying? Of course, you’re on first name bases with another Admiral.” Bob said, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, the whole class either retired after Captain or they’re Rear Admirals. Tom is the highest ranking and Y/n is the second highest of full bird Admiral,” Pete said as he came by with more photos. The squad took in the photos as they set them up, it was photo after photo of the class in Top Gun, all having fun with each other, then there were ones later on as they advanced in their careers.

It was only hours later that the class began to trickle in, the Dagger Squad tried to remain professional but it was hard when most of their idols were in the same room as them. Each of them took the time to talk to the young aviators, happy to talk to the new generation and the ones that Maverick and Iceman obviously cared about.

Slider was talking to Tom and Pete when he looked around finally, “Where the hell is Phantom? She would never miss this opportunity!” he said, looking for you still.

“Are my ears playing tricks on me or are you actually missing me, Kerner?” You laughed in the doorway. Everyone turned at the sound of your voice, you looked just like you did at Top Gun just with some grey hair in a military bun, your face a little softer in the skin with a few age lines, your uniform well pressed and it was obvious you kept in shape. You had an air of confidence and it was obvious why you were so well respected.

Wolfman whistled, “Damn, Admiral looks good on you Phantom! Didn’t you get the memo though? Casual clothes!” He laughed. You held up the garment bag, “I am getting change here, I just got off a six-hour flight from D.C. to here Wolfman, cut me some slack. I’m still six months from my possible retirement!” you laughed before walking away and to the bathroom.

As soon as you left, Hollywood chuckled, “Damn, she hasn’t changed one bit! Mav, Ice, why didn’t you mention she was retiring?” he asked. The Dagger Squad was lost, why would they know? Are you just good friends with the couple?

They both smiled sadly, “She didn’t want to say anything. She is just finishing up helping women in the military. If it doesn’t go through she’ll push off the retirement again. You know she only took a political position to help females in the military,” Tom said. ”Each time she has gone to do something, a new issue pops up. It’s been tough on her, she even slept through our anniversary dinner the one year,” Pete continued. It clicked that they had married you and when they turned to Bradley, he gave a small nod. “Still, she should be proud. I heard she has ruffled a lot of feathers, good,” Slider said, sipping his beer.

The Dagger Squad watched on and Phoenix was happy to hear that the woman she admired was planning to make waves for women like her until she was satisfied. She had always wanted to be just like you, she knew she would be going into the career also to continue your work, possibly work for you one day.

You came out in jeans and a plain shirt, looking much less strict and more like the woman in the photos. You had a big grin on your face as everyone cheered to see the Phantom they knew. You kissed both your husbands and shook hands with your friends before getting pulled into hugs by the closest ones.

“Bradley! God, you’ve gotten so big!” you cried, hugging your nephew/son in all but blood. “Yeah, yeah ma,” he joked, holding you close, “You say that every time and try to fatten me up more,” he snorted. You were like a mom to him, joked you were third after Carole and Maverick.

All the others that were closer to Goose already came up to check on ‘Baby Goose’, all of them kept tabs on the kid for their friend. “Introduce me to your friends. I’m so sorry I couldn’t come for the mission,” you told him and he smiled, “The President needing your ear was a little bit more important. Just beware, they’re big fans,” he whispered in your ear jokingly. “Be nice Bradley,” You joked, going over. He was happy to show you to all of his best friends, the ones he trusted the most as you did with the Class of ‘86.

They all introduced themselves quickly, all saying how much they loved your work. You quickly took to them all, happily getting to know your surrogate sons’ friends. You really took to Phoenix, giving her advice and happily listening to her.

Later that night as you caught up with everyone, sharing stories, Wolfman stood up and whistled loudly. "Listen up! This is for our lovely Admiral L/n! We planned to give it to her early but someone was on a lovely private jet," He joked. “Well, when you come back to the Navy and become a full bird admiral, you’ll get to ride in the jet!” You joked, leaning into your husbands happily. Hollywood grinned, “Watch the sass, Phantom,” he joked back, “We all were going through the photos to bring today. Slider found one you never knew about,” He told you, they all turned serious.

Slider brought it over for you, Maverick, and Iceman, you teared up as you saw the photo of you and Goose. You, Maverick, and Goose were all best friends before he passed, Iceman was growing that close also despite all the ‘issues’ in Top Gun.

The photo was you and Goose at Top Gun, sitting on the ground. You were both yelling while laughing, flipping off two jets in the sky “Jesus! I forgot about this! We were so pissed at Viper and Jester,” you said, a wet chuckle leaving you as you teared up.

You brought the kids over and told them the story, Iceman joking the Goose carried the one brain cell you three shared 99% of the time. From there the whole group poked fun at you and Maverick, talking about how reckless you used to be and Ice had to rein you both in. “She fell asleep on me! Slider had to pull Maverick off the bar before he started to strip!” Ice laughed, kissing your cheek as you blushed.

Later more photos were brought out, the kids found the volleyball photos, “Holy crap! Ma was hot!” Hangman suddenly blurted, making you turn beat red. Maverick looked angry that he would say that but Iceman cooled it all off, “Yeah, she is!” He said, making you smile. “Also, Ma?” You asked, “Well they’re Pops so Ma fits,” Jake said.

That night you unconsciously made the choice that you would be staying there with your husbands and that you would slowly grow your family, becoming Momma Hen to your little ducklings.

Slowly, your and Iceman's presence was made more obvious at Top Gun, causing frustration from Cyclone and amusement for Warlock. You both put Cyclone in his place many times and the increased presence created better pilots.

From there, you often protected the kids (despite them not actually being kids), you were often pulling them out of trouble and your husbands would lecture them later for giving you more grey hair.

And when you got insecure about that, they all hyped you up and showed why you had that grey, they showed you all the females you helped because lately, you felt like you weren’t making a big enough impact. Phoenix cried during telling you how you helped her before and after you met, you made sure to show her that her emotions made her stronger.

When they were all sick, you made Bradley his favorite homemade potato soup and some homemade chicken noodle like you did when he was a child. That was when you found out that you were appointed official “Momma Hen” of the group to your ducklings. You had to make them all soup after they begged in the group chat, “Momma Hen’s Ducklings” and learned from your husbands that this was Bradley’s doing.

From then on, you were a constant there for them all. Helping them make up, making them feel better, supporting them in missions, and protecting them. You got #1 Mom awards for them on mothers day.

You were the one to straighten Cyclone out, he did not like you at all but you let him know how close you were with all the officials to demote him and get him kicked off base and sent to the worst one out there. No one messed with your kids or Maverick. He nearly screwed up when you took a plane, letting everyone else know, so you could teach the Daggers the move you created. Apparently he looked close to peeing himself when he realized he yelled at you.

When Phoenix came to you, letting you know she was pregnant after having been with Jake, Bradley, and Robert for a year, you broke down apologizing as this was the first time you couldn’t help her. From an accident, you were unable to have children and it broke your heart. She sat you down and explained how you were a real mom, you were to her and all the Daggers, you were to some of ‘86.

From there, their first daughter was named Carole Y/n, honoring you.

You became a grandmother to all the Dagger’s children, babysitting when you finally got too old and didn’t want to be one of those ‘politicians’ that never moved, Phoenix took over your position and often came to you for advice.

When your husbands passed, they passed close together. Everyone worried for you and thought you would follow soon but you didn’t, you held your grand-babies a little closer. Even at your age, everyone still came to you even as you attended more and more funerals for all your friends. You were the last of ‘86.

You even got to see your first great-grand baby, Rooster had to help you hold them.

Near the end, you would have days where you couldn’t tell the difference and thought all your friends were back, you often apologized to Rooster, thinking he was Goose. He accepted the apology, putting you at ease near the end. When you were close, everything became clear and you told them all how proud of them you were. When you passed, you went peacefully with Rooster and Phoenix holding your hands.

***End of flashback

“So now that you know her story, know how she helped many of you, we created a medal in her honor,” He said, a proud smile on his face. He could have sworn he saw young you and the class of ‘86 near the back, watching proudly.

“As Fleet Admiral of the United States Navy, I, Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, am honored to announce the first recipient of the Admiral Y/n ‘Phantom’ Mitchell-Kazansky Servicewoman of Honor Medal... Admiral Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace!”

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saltsicklover · 6 months

Text

Title: Not a Cyclone, But a Monsoon

Part 1 of 2 - Completed

Find Part 2 HERE and my Master List HERE

A request based off of THIS prompt, from the lovely @inkandarsenic

Romantic Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader Past Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Platonic Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson x Fem!Reader

A few uses of Y/N

Word Count: This part: 6k+ Total Fic:20k+

Rating: R

---

I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED

Miramar, California. TOP GUN. Six years before the organization of the Dagger Squad.

The Officers Club, better known as The Flight Line Bar sits on post in Miramar, frequented by the big brass and educators at Top Gun. The whole place glows with amber light from the buzzing light fixtures that hang from the rafters, dusty and hot to the touch. This half of base, on the far side of the air field has yet to be updated, evident by the chips in the glasses and the inconsistent flickering of the halogen bulbs. The wallpaper is peeling; discolored around the old neon signs that have slowly begun to fizzle out. If it were any brighter inside those four walls, one might be able to see the discoloration of well walked floors and one too many spilt beers.

Two loan pool tables sit in the center of the bar, their felt faded from use and tearing, flanked by a couple of dart boards, their cork crumbling from age. The patrons look about the same, old and wrinkled with age, lines worn into their faces that read closer to distinguished than wary. That's what the military does to a person, wears itself straight into the skin and makes a home there, the ghosts of lost wingman and battle buddies still looming in the whites of their eyes. Too many memories are stuck in the deep folds of their uniforms, worn in around the elbows and shoulders, the creases worn from friction- salute after salute.

It's really a hard to believe that people still frequent The Flight Line Bar. After all, there are so many better places for the students of Top Gun to meander into, just off post where they don't have to risk rubbing shoulders with their instructors- or heaven forbid, hit on their guest lecturers.

After all, It's all fun and games, flirty touches and smooth words until you're slapped with a SHARP report.

The students always figure out the good places to drink after class, shortly after their arrival after one too many moments spent inside the crumbling bar. The drinks are good in taste, better in price, but not worth it at the risk of saying just the wrong thing to just the wrong person.

The new recruits arrival happens like clockwork, and it's a ritual the newly minted Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson loves to witness. He has been watching the little ordeal for the last four years, with each new Top Gun class, even choosing to mark the date on his calendar after having almost missed an incoming class last year.

The new Top Gun recruits wander into The Flight Line Bar in gaggles. Most still clad in their uniforms if they had been lucky enough to get issued a drinking order. The wide eyed aviators would file up to the bar, uneasy looks on their faces as they took in the ranks drinking around them. If the Flight Line Bar was a small pond, the Top Gun inductees are guppies surrounded by some very big fish. One year, a young aviator even tripped over the base commander's seat and was met with a glare that even Cyclone would have been nervous to stand on the receiving end of.

The recruits each drink a beer, the brave ones chancing a second, before they're heading for the door. Cyclone loves to see the discomfort that would roll off of them the moment they crossed the threshold back into the parking lot. Some would even shiver, which always seems to pull a hearty laugh out of the Admiral.

This year, however, Cyclone is met with a very different scene before him when he himself broke the threshold of the Flight Line Bar. Having been stuck in a meeting with Admiral Kazansky, Cyclone ends up arriving later than the usual crowd of recruits. So, when he finally wanders in, he is met with the fleeting glances of some top brass, but no new eyes. He can't fight the way he almost deflates; after the shit day he managed to barely claw his way through, the one thing he was looking forward to were the wide eyes of the newest, freshest meat that Top Gun managed to recruit.

As if today of all days wasn't hard enough to begin with.

Instead, it looks like a regular Friday night, which wouldn't do the leg work needed to actually flip his day around for the better. But he's already there, the drinks are cheap, and he really, really needs a drink. So, he orders with a silent wave of his hand, the borderline elderly man behind the bar meeting the wave with a nod of his head. Cyclone plops down unceremoniously onto one of the rickety barstools. It almost sways under his weight, however it does creak weakly as he settles. His temple meets his knuckles as he lets out a deep sigh as the beer being set down in front of him. Cyclone can only manage a nod to the bartender before lifting the glass to his lips.

The question of why he still drinks here, in this lousy bar, floats through his head for a moment, but he doesn't put fourth the energy to grant himself with an answer. Maybe it's the cheap beer and half price shots. Or, maybe the fact that he doesn't have to fight off the happy hour drinkers or the five o'clock somewhere partiers that seem to be carried in with the wind. Again, he doesn't entertain the question long enough to form an answer.

Cyclone doesn't even have to glance around the bar to know the crowd this Friday night hosts. Top brass, tired officers, and disgruntled wives, each drinking their own bad days away.

The glass feels about a hundred pounds and it meets the bar top with a loud thunk, the amber liquid sloshing around inside. A bit of foam sneaks over the rim, running down the crack in the glass. Cyclone scratches at it with this thumbnail, wondering how the hell the bar is still getting away with using nearly broken glassware. The thought doesn't last long, not many seem to this evening, and he is bringing the impossibly heavy glass back to his mouth for another sip.

As he tips it back a little further this time, the sulking woman a few seats down catches his attention. If this were a normal Friday night, Cyclone might make bets with himself on just why a woman might be crying, in this bar, all alone. He might puzzle that she is a soon to be ex-wife, her spouse making the choice to cheat on deployment. Maybe she is a daughter, or a sister, or a cousin, her base escort hiding in some other corner of the bar, or of the base. But tonight is not a normal Friday night, regardless of the absence of the new incoming class or not.

The Admiral can't help but watch her lazily out of the corner of his eye. She brings a shitty bar serviette up to wipe at her cheeks, sniffling as the paper touches her skin. Cyclone should feel guilty about how much the sight comforts him. At least, he thinks, someone else seems to be having just as bad of a day as he is.

Then, she catches him staring, his beer lost in the space between his lips and the counter. His fingers are sticky against the chilled glass as he holds it there, still watching her. Cyclone doesn't look away, no point in it now. Then, she breaks the disillusioned bubble forming between them with a sniffle and a hiccup.

It's not a pretty sound, but then again, the sight of the woman in front of him isn't exactly pretty either. After all, it's hard to be pretty when snot is rubbed up over the tip of her nose, catching the light as she sniffles again. Her hair is akin to a nest, like her fingers have been making their way through it over and over again until it is more mess than style.

"I'm sorry, Admiral, Sir," Her voice is straining from holding back tears. There is snot dripping from her nose again, and she wipes it with another flimsy napkin. A half effort is made to sweep back the hair in her face, her well kept fingernails catching in newly formed knots as she pushes it back. The woman doesn't break eye contact with him, even as the sight of him begins to swim through her newly forming tears.

"Hey, kid, it's okay, don't worry about it," His eyes meet the fluttering neon sign behind her, not wanting to lock eyes with her again. It lights her in a halo of sickly blue and Cyclone can see the fizziness of her hair in it's light- it's a half distraction from the way she is still looking at him with those tears in her eyes. He can't stand it when women cry, not after watching his wife, June, sob through her entire pregnancy. It's really the way their eyes glaze over- that helpless look where he can just tell they are fighting with everything they are worth, deep down knowing that it might not be enough. Though, it warms his chest a bit to call her "kid", like he has always been meant to use the term.

The Admiral's brown eyes go misty, locking onto the chipped portion of his glass as the memory of his wife, six months pregnant, stuck in a hospital bed as hot tears carved their way down her face invades Cyclone's memory like a plague. He will never forget the crimson staining her cheeks from the exertion as she fought. And fought. And fought. The way her skin was more chapped than smooth from the constant flow of tears- the way the light would catch the shininess of her skin from the petroleum jelly that he lovingly spread over her weeping skin.

She didn't make it home.

Neither did their baby boy.

And now, as this woman sits a couple stools down, crying in a way that's anything other than gentle, corralling her sobs into the fence of her chest; her face that same color he used to be so used to seeing, that same damn sheen to her skin and Beau feels sick. His eyes snap down to her hands and he watches as her fingers push through the soggy material of the napkin, a sight that makes him grimace a bit. Gross is not the word to use to describe a crying woman, that is fact he has to remind himself of, but the way her fingertips slipped right through that soggy excuse of a napkin is damn close. Cyclone schools his mouth into a tight line, knowing that anything he might say could make both of their day's spiral downwards even faster.

"Admiral," Cyclone wills himself to look her in the face, but his pupils dance around, not locking in on one spot too long. The frizz of her hair, then over the puffy skin under her eyes, then back up to the buzzing neon just over the top of her head. Anything to keep from looking into the woman's eyes. He manages a nod in her direction, rewarded with a hiccup from behind her glass.

A couple more used napkins are tossed up onto the bar, adding them to her steadily growing pile. Her beer is cold, and she can feel it travel all the way down, chilling her burning insides with each swallow. Cyclone takes a drink of his too, waiting for her to continue her thought. He closes his eyes as he tips back the glass, the image of the crying woman in front of him replaced with one of June, and he's not really sure which is worse.

Thunk goes the glass again.

"Can I ask a favor?" Her tone is so sweet, yet so, so sad. He thinks of June, then he nods, his body doing the motion for the sake of his heart, even though his brain is screaming at him. He was taught a long time ago that there are people who don't just ask for favors, specifically strange women in bars, new recruits, and the big brass. But, the woman looks about the age his son should have been now and his chest constricts with the realization that he could have been sitting here drinking with him if things had turned out different.

"How can I help you, kid?" The glass is hitting the bar top just a little bit too hard again, the splinter in the glass growing a millimeter. It's quickly covered by the large pad of Cyclone's thumb.

"I- well, I'm supposed to be here celebrating my Mother's leg-legacy," Another sob-full hiccup breaks up her sentence. Cyclone waits patiently for her to finish. She wipes at the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.

"And, she really liked to shoot whiskey," The explanation is coming out too wet and not at all concise, but Beau is nodding along anyway. The woman is rubbing at her eyes again, this time with her fingertips. She carefully runs her nail along the underside of her waterline, trying to catch the new tears before they streak down her cheeks with the rest of them. It doesn't really work, or even if it does, Cyclone can't tell. New tears fill up the spaces the freshly wiped away ones once occupied.

Despite the unclear delivery, Cyclone gets the message. Ordering two double shots of Tennessee whiskey, his wife's favorite, Cyclone offers his best sympathetic smile to his new drinking companion. Then, as the whiskey is being poured and he is shuffling over to the bar stool next to hers. That one creaks and sways too, but he tries not to pay it too much mind.

"What's your name, kid?" There's that warmth again, breaking through the tightening feeling in his chest.

"Lieutenant Y/N "Monsoon" Mitchell," Monsoon raises her shot glass to Cyclone, offering him a nod. It's such an informal introduction but both are thankful for the lack of salute, the lack of military theatrics, tradition, that they are usually stuck to upholding. After all, what is tradition except peer pressure ringing through from years past.

Cyclone knows her, well, her name, this recruit- on paper at least. Suddenly he feels a bit worse for feeling less alone when he spotted her crying.

"Beau "Cyclone" Simpson," He raises his own glass, moving to tap them together. It's a risky move with the state of the glasses, each sporting chips in their rims and hairline fractures down their side. They share sullen, makeshift smiles, neither putting any sort of heart behind the expression. It's a knowing sort of thing, the look they share, one that says I won't say anything if you won't.

"To my Mama, Lieutenant Maria Davis, the best damn medic the USS Vinson ever saw," Monsoon's toast is simple, but she means every single word. Beau's mouth turns up at the corners, nodding to her in acknowledgment of a good job.

"And too my wife, June, and our baby boy, god rest their souls."

The bottoms of the glasses hit the table before the rim makes contact with their lips. The alcohol goes down with a burn, but it's a welcomed sensation. Anything feels better than swallowing grief and there's too much in the air right now. Cyclone chases the shot with a gulp of his beer. Monsoon doesn't. She rests the cool glass against her warm cheek, squeezing her eyes shut. It's a refreshing feeling, almost like she is being rinsed from the inside out.

The alcohol settles deep within them. She is buzzing, he is a bit queasy. Neither need to say a thing about it. It kind of feels like church- like a well spoken sermon where one sits in the pew the furthest from the crowed, tucked away in the back, poking holes in each lesson the preacher delivers. After all, it's not really God's plan, is it? More dumb luck than divine circumstance. Yet, they are both still there, sitting on stool that could give out at any moment as the lights above them buzz and the world feels a little smaller.

"I was watching the class today. You're a damn good pilot, Monsoon," Beau speaks after a few beats of silence, not quite sure what to say. Go with the truth, right? It would be rude to move back to his original seat, especially after the woman next to him just got control of her tears, so small talk is the next best option. She cracks her eyes open, trying to read the expression that follows the compliment. It looks genuine, if not a little proud, so she nods.

And then the world is a bit smaller, still.

"Thank you, Admiral, sir," She sets the glass down, gentler than he has done the whole night, "That means a lot, coming from such a talented pilot as yourself, sir."

And then Cyclone is chuckling, his chest vibrating. That feeling being the closest thing to godly he has felt in a long time, but it's more Zeus, more Jupitar, than it could have ever been God. Monsoon's words are so genuine and it catches him off guard. Most people who say something like that are trying to kiss his ass so hard that there they all but wear marks on the backside of his trousers.

"Are you getting excited to graduate? The ceremony is next week, right?" He asks, bringing his eyes back to the neon behind her. The light above them flickers, neither one acknowledging it. There is a sort of kinship between the way their souls feel and the state of the bar, where living feels like the flickering of a light, tonight.

"Sir?" The question comes with a tilt of her head, her fingers wrapping loosely around her beer. He watches the condensation drip down the glass, the water disappearing behind her fingertips.

"To graduate," he explains like it's the clearest thing, "To finish Top Gun,"

"Oh!" Monsoon almost chuckles, but her soul is too heavy. She settles on a small smile, as kind as she can manage.

"I don't graduate for another six weeks. Today just wrapped my seventh week here, but halfway done does feel good," He can tell she is holding something back with the way her eyes are pinched at the corners, the smiles on her lips straining a bit under her words. Monsoon looks like she almost doesn't believe the words that are leaving her own mouth, but when Cyclone catches her eyes again he can see that look again, I won't say anything if you won't.

"Oh," Beau's hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, all of a sudden feeling like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "In that case, you are one of the best pilots I've ever seen,"

The words fall from his tongue like they are the simplest thing in the world. His eyebrows are still raised as he downs the rest of his beer. He contemplates Monsoon's career in his head, attempting to think back to files he knows are sitting on his desk, but the alcohol swirls the statistics together in his brain.

"Thank you, sir,"

"Is your father planning on coming to your graduation?" The question is so simple, the next plausible question after toasting to her Mother's life. Monsoon bristles at the question, her expression becoming impossibly more tight, pinched.

"He's uhm," The foam in the bottom of Monsoon's glass is the most interesting thing in the room. Tears are flooding her eyes again, and she's turning back to the shitty bar napkins in the even shittier dispenser. Cyclone knows his question hit a nerve based on how she is frantically pulling napkin after napkin out of the dispenser; and the Admiral's guilt swims to the surface. He is sure that the horizon of it can be seen in his iris's, if Monsoon were to look past the evident sadness that has made a home there. He's pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, blue in color and perfectly folded. He offers it to her and it's taken with a slightly shaky hand.

"M.I.A. or AWOL?" Cyclone asks. There's a bit of humor to his question that neither of them comment on.

"He went AWOL when I was seven," She doesn't take her eyes off the popping foam in the bottom of her glass, "Then I suppose he went M.I.A. three years later, when he stopped sending birthday cards,"

Cyclone hates the way her shrugs are all noncommittal and vaguely unbothered. He would have killed for a chance to raise his child, hell, he would move the Earth if that meant he even had a chance to do something. The fact that a man would walk out on his family, on his own child, it makes him sick. There is still something else Monsoon isn't saying; the way she chuckles is almost wax poetic with the way she rolls her eyes. Cyclone raises an eyebrow at her as he gestures to the bartended for two more on tap.

"I was in Admiral Kazansky's office today," She chuckles again, eyes glassy and unfocused. Cyclone slides the new beer over to her. He brings his up to his lips as she breathes deeply, trying to order the words together in her head, words she can't believe she is about to say out loud.

"There's a fucking picture of my father on his desk," Then she is downing the beer in quick, deep gulps. It's half gone before she sets it back down. Cyclone's brain is working on overdrive, swerving the hazy clouds of intoxication, searching for the mental picture of the Admiral's desk. Monsoon is chuckling in quiet disbelief, picturing the damn photo on his desk, her father and the Admiral shaking hands during their time at Top Gun. It makes her sick, really, but she doesn't need to say it based on the way her face feels, all contorted and ugly.

"I didn't even want to be a fucking pilot," Cyclone doesn't know if she is speaking to him anymore, or if the words are meant for her half empty glass. Hell, the way she speaks them they could be meant for the universe, for Khaos, for the air itself. There's a chip on that glass too, in the smooth side if of it, where it tapers down. He watches as Monsoon rubs her fingertip over it again and again and again.

"What did you want to do?" The question is leaving Cyclone's lips before he can stop it, common sense kicking in too slow. He is kicking himself.

Then, her thumb is stopping.

"I wanted to be a RIO," The glass is lifted to her lips again, her eyes rolling at the mere thought, "I wanted to fly with my Dad,"

The laughter that leave Monsoon's lips is dry as autumn air. Her lips crack too, under the stretch of her half hearted smile- one that holds no joy, it's all lukewarm and apathetic. He watches the skin of her lips crack and separate- it looks painful, and Cyclone has to fight not to grimace at the sight. Blood slowly begins to leak through the new flesh wound, bright red as it crests over the fullness of her bottom lip. He remembers watching the same thing happen to Maverick in the back of a helicopter as the wind whipped around them. But then, Maverick wore a truly joyous smile, one that rounded out his cheeks with a rosy hue that went deeper than the wind burn.

Then it hits Cyclone like a ton of bricks- like pulling 6 G's in a fucking barrel roll. Mitchell. This girl in front of him, this broken, fatherless girl is Pete Michell's kid. As if Cyclone needed another reason to hate the reckless man.

Beau wants to punch Pete Michell so hard that the only thing the man can make out in his field of vision is stars. Either the ones in the sky as he is planted with his back in the dirt, or the ones that would no doubt sparkle behind his eyelids. He wants to watch as the other man bleeds from the nose, the lip, the inside of his mouth. Cyclone can almost see the way the blood would pool in the spaces between Maverick's too white teeth, turning them a sickly vermilion. He would take a little too much pride watching the blood drip out of the corner of Pete's mouth, or down the crest of his chin.

Hell, Pete Michell, bloody, is a justified sight in Cyclone's book.

But that wouldn't help her right now. So Cyclone takes a breath, calming the flames of anger, of Hades that often lick at his legs, at his hands, whenever he so much as thinks about Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

He's a bastard, that much is for sure. And it doesn't seem that Monsoon needs reminding of that fact.

"Well, kid," Beau is hunting, hurting for the right words, "If it's not wrong of me to say- your talents would have been wasted as a fucking RIO, especially for that son of a bitch," That gets Monsoon chuckling. She wants to ask if her grandmother was really that bad, but she doesn't make the joke. Though the laugh sounds a bit strangled as it untangles from the dense pain in her chest, Cyclone is happy to hear it. Something small swells in his heart at the sound.

Somewhere, deep in the cavernous spaces of his soul, a broken part of him feels like a father for the first time in years, even if it isn't exactly proper and the woman in front of him isn't his kid. Cyclone feels like a father, not even in a pseudo sense of the word, but truly like a father, and the feeling warms him from the inside out. It overtakes his whole body, leaving him almost buzzing.

Now it's his turn to chuckle. It's sour with pain and longing, but it's still there. Like joy is trying to crawl it's way out, lukewarm and dripping wet.

"Well, Admiral, sir," Monsoon's voice is a little lighter now, sweeter maybe. Cyclone is watching as she's pulling her coat over her shoulders, "Thank you for the favor, and the drink,"

She's nodding her head in the direction of the half full glass still dripping with condensation.

"Thank you for remembering them with me, too," They share a knowing smile, it's a little broken but it is still warm. Again, it's one of those I won't say anything if you won't looks shared between the pair. They lock eyes one last time before Monsoon is turning on her heel, ready to head right out of the front door.

For just a second Cyclone wonders if Monsoon will shudder with relief in the same way the new Top Gun recruits usually do, or if something as simple as that will effect such a skilled pilot. He wonders if anyone will be there for her on graduation day, or if she will be stuck alone in the seas of families and friends- just like he was all those years ago.

I won't say anything if you won't. Yeah, that's not a chance he's willing to take.

"Wait," Cyclone calls after Monsoon, his voice a little too loud and not at all hesitant enough. Monsoon chances a look back, confusion written into the furrow of her brows. He becons he back with a wave of his hand. Cyclone pulls a business card from his front pocket. "I am going TDY, but I should be back for your graduation," The words don't make sense to Monsoon, and neither does the card that he's presenting her between his two fingers. She is cocking her head to the side again, eyebrows furrowed. Cyclone tries to not notice how much she looks like her father.

He notices anyway.

"Email me, remind me of the date, and I'll be there," He is presenting her the card again with a shake of his wrist. Then, she reaches out, grabbing it with nervous fingers.

"Oh, uh-" There are new tears forming in Monsoon's eyes at the words, the card now swimming in her vision. "Thank you, sir,"

"Oh, better yet," Cyclone plucks the card from her fingertips, a move that may have been considered crass but Monsoon can't help but find a little bit funny. Cyclone quickly scribbles down a phone number in messy loops of blue ink, the numbers taking up a little too much room on the back side of the card. Then, he blows on it carefully to make sure the ink won't smudge before handing the card back out to her in the same manner as before.

"Text me the reminder, so it doesn't get lost in my email," Cyclone's smile is so kind and there is a ribbon of hope, a glimmer, really, shinning through the lightest parts of his irises. Monsoon can barely hold back her tears at the sight, and so the card becomes the most interesting thing in the room, held between her shaking fingertips. "You deserve to have a parent there, kid,"

Those are the last words they share that night. They don't need to say anything else. After all, how do you explain the want to stand in as a lost family member? Beau would never admit just how much he's dying for a kid to support, to cheer on and celebrate. Monsoon knows the feeling too, the want to be a daughter who isn't seen as an inconvenience, a burden.

The next time they see each other, Cyclone is sitting in the front row at her Top Gun graduation, a small bouquet of calla lilies on his lap. There is a proud smile on his face and the moment Monsoon sees it there are tears in her eyes. She wonders if this is the feeling she had been missing out on, a father's pride, his love. She tries not to dwell on it, even as walks across that stage.

When the pair meet in the crowd, Cyclone doesn't hesitate to pull her into a hug, one that may not have been professional or regulated, but he feels a weight come off her shoulders the moment he pulls her in. He feels a little more whole too. The hug is short, quick, really, but there are tears in both of their eyes when they pull back.

Cyclone has so much pride for her, and God, Monsoon can feel it. From the way he beams at her to the way he shoves a camera into the hands of his battle buddy, tucking her under his arm. Both clad in dress uniform, posing for the camera as she holds the flowers against her chest to try and quell the beating of her heart. They both sport tears in their eyes, cheeks round and plump red as they smile too wide.

That photo makes onto his desk a week later, displayed in a beautiful mahogany frame.

USS Stennis. Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Four Years before the organization of the Dagger Squad.

The first time Monsoon calls him Pops, it's an accident. She got shipped out to an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. The tour is lonely. She doesn't know the team, the group who have been stationed there for the last six months, and they weren't overly keen on the 'new girl'. Monsoon made it through three months before she started to feel like a part of the team. It's a conscious choice, really, to keep working at fitting in. But in the end that team, those people, they aren't her family and they aren't going to remember her after she ships back stateside.

Emails to and from Cyclone kept her going, as he reassured her that life on the carrier isn't easy on anyone. He urges her to try and make better friends with those who hold a more permanent position on the vessel, so she does her best to take the newbies under her wing. If she wasn't welcomed, that was out of her control, but she can sure as hell make sure that the newbies are.

The plan starts off a little rough, the new sailors unsure of the overly friendly Lieutenant amongst the standoffish seasoned crew of the vessel. But days turn to weeks, trust is earned and the long days and nights onboard get easier to swallow.

Then, Cyclone gets shipped out to the carrier for a briefing. He can't help the rumble of excitement that tracks through him. He might get to see Monsoon, his kid, and he's going to do everything in his power to track her down on board.

There is too much joy on his features as he touches down on the carrier. Too much joy for the briefing he is getting ushered into. It drags on longer than necessary as they hash and rehash out plans for missions. He knows he should care, he really does, but it's not like people's lives are on the line this mission. It's all practice runs and jet maintenance, and how could anyone expect him to focus when his kid is on the same vessel and he is just fucking sitting there. Cyclone barely sits still, knowing the clock is ticking down on his time aboard and if this meeting goes on any longer than planned he is going to miss his chance to see Monsoon.

Around suppertime, Monsoon is heading to the canteen, desperate for some sort of nourishment. It has been a long day, trial after trial, and thankfully for her, she's fairing better than some of her other wingmen. At least she hasn't puked over the side of the carrier since her first week aboard.

She guides one of the newer pilots, Story, down the stairs from the flight deck, her stomach rumbling as they go. The new Lieutenant on board hot on her heels as they make their way down the stairs.

"I know, Story, but you're going to get through this," Monsoon's voice is low as they wind their way through the tight hallways of the lower decks. "You're a good pilot, there is nothing you can't do. So what if you need a little more practice. That's why we're out here, right?"

The younger man hums in agreement, disappointment scribbled all over his face. They are both coated in sweat, Monsoon's hair sticking to her sweat soaked skin. She craves a shower almost as much as she craves food. Her body is weighed down with flight fatigue as she drags her feet.

The halls of the ship begin to smell more and more like hot biscuits and butter the closer they get to the mess hall. Their stomach's rumble in unison at the smell wafting down the hallway. Monsoon is rounding the corner with her front turned towards Story, not bothering a glance in the direction her feet are heading. A second later, her back meets a hard body, a grunt coming out of her mouth at the impact.

Story goes white at the sight of his new friend running straight into an Admiral. Monsoon doesn't like the look on his face, he looks like he's just seen a ghost, or maybe prophesied a murder. So she turns around slowly, so, so slowly. Her eyes are scrunched as she turns. There is already an apology on her lips as Monsoon peeks to see just exactly who she just ran into.

Eyes go wide, and smiles break out over their faces.

The need for food, a hot shower, and sleep dissipate from her body as she looks up at the man in front of her, joy overtaking.

"Pops!" The name comes out a little too quick, catching them both of guard. Monsoon's cheeks flush dark with embarrassment, realizing what she just said and who she just said it to. Without warning, Cyclone is pulling Monsoon into his chest, wrapping her into a warm, tight hug, just the kind of hug a Dad would give.

"Hey Kiddo,"

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